UC-NRLF 


it 


*    ii 


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i 


GIFT  OF 
THOMAS  RUTHERFORD  BACON 

MEMORIAL   UBRARY 


f 


BY    ANNA    FULLER. 


pratt  portraits. 

Sketched  in  a  New  England  Suburb.     Seventh  edi 
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"  The  scant  material  of  which  many  of  them  are  composed, 
and  the  satisfactory  manner  of  their  treatment,  cause  wonder 
at  the  same  time  that  they  arouse  admiration,  for  it  must  be 
admitted  that  only  a  thorough  artist  can  accomplish  this  end 
with  a  genre  picture." — Cleveland  Leader. 

"The  lines  the  author  cuts  in  her  vignette  are  sharp  and 
clear,  but  she  has,  too,  not  alone  the  knack  of  color,  but,  what 
is  rarer,  the  gift  of  humor." — N.  Y.  Times. 

B  Xiterar^  Gourtsbtp. 

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"  If  you  know  of  any  one  in  the  blues,  or  contemplating 
a  journey,  or  in  any  of  the  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine 
conditions  when  pleasant  reading  is  likely  to  prove  acceptable, 
advise  him  to  get  this  little  story,  or,  better  still,  make  him  a 
present  of  it." — Chicago  Interior. 

"A  delightful  little  love  story.  Like  her  other  book  it  is 
bright  and  breezy  ;  its  humor  is  crisp  and  the  general  idea  is 
decidedly  original.  It  is  just  the  book  to  slip  into  the  pocket 
for  a  journey,  when  one  does  not  care  for  a  novel  or  serious 
reading." — Boston  Times. 

peak  ant>  prairie. 

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SHE     SAT     GAZING     AT    THE    VIEW     HE     LOVED. 


peak  anb  prairie 


FROM  A  COLORADO 
SKETCH-BOOK 


Buna  fuller 

AUTHOR    OF     UA    LITERARY    COURTSHIP,"    "  PRATT 
PORTRAITS,"    ETC. 


G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


COPYRIGHT,  1894 

BY 
ANNA   FULLER 


Electrotyped,  Printed  and  Bound  by 

Ubc  IRnfcfecrbocfccr  press,  IRew 

G.  P.  PUTNAM'S  SONS 


PREFACE. 


THE  sketches  of  Colorado  life  which  make 
up  this  volume  are  little  more  than  hints 
and  suggestions  caught  from  time  to  time  by  a 
single  observer  in  a  comparatively  narrow  field 
of  observation.  Narrow  as  the  field  is,  how 
ever,  it  offers  a  somewhat  unusual  diversity 
of  scene ;  for  that  most  charming  of  health 
resorts  known  in  these  pages  as  Springtown, 
is  the  chance  centre  of  many  varying  interests. 
In  its  immediate  vicinity  exists  the  life  of  the 
prairie  ranch  on  the  one  hand  and  that  of  the 
mining-camp  on  the  other  ;  while  dominating 
all  as  it  were — town,  prairie,  and  mountain 
fastness— rises  the  great  Peak  which  has  now 
for  so  many  years  been  the  goal  of  pilgrimage 
to  men  and  women  from  the  Eastern  States  in 
pursuit  of  health,  of  fortune,  or  of  the  free,  open- 
air  life  of  the  prairie.  If,  from  acquaintance 
with  these  fictitious  characters  set  in  a  very 
real  environment,  the  reader  be  led  to  form 


272558 


iv  preface 

some  slight  impression  of  the  stirring  little 
drama  which  is  going  forward  to-day  in  that 
pleasant  I^and  of  Promise,  he  will  have  inci 
dentally  endorsed  the  claim  of  these  discon 
nected  sketches  to  be  regarded  as  a  single 
picture. 

MAY,  1894. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 

PREFACE         

I.— A  PILGRIM  IN  THE  FAR  WEST 

II.— BRIAN  BORU 

III. — JAKE  STANWOOD'S  GAL 
IV.— AT  THE  KEITH  RANCH. 
V.— THE  RUMPETY  CASE     . 
VI.— THE  L,AME  GULCH  PROFESSOR  . 
VII.— THE  Boss  OF  THE  WHEEL  . 
VIII.— MR.  FETHERBEE'S  ADVENTURE 
IX. — AN  AMATEUR  GAMBLE  . 
X. — A  ROCKY  MOUNTAIN  SHIPWRECK 
XI.— A  STROKE  IN  THE  GAME 
XII.— THE  BLIZZARD  PICNIC   . 
XIII.— A  GOLDEN  VISTA    . 


PAGE 
vii 

i 

36 
60 

101 

123 

J51 
187 
217 
240 
266 
301 
335 
369 


NOTE.  — Of  the  thirteen  sketches  included  in  this  volume 
six  have  previously  appeared  in  periodicals,  as  follows  : 

A  Pilgrim  in  the  Far  West  in  Harper's  Weekly ;  Brian  Born 
in  U'orthingtori  s  Magazine;  Jake  Stanwood's  Gal  and  At 
the  Keith  Ranch  in  The  Century  Magazine ;  The  Rurmpety  Case 
in  LippincoWs  Magazine  ;  and  An  Amateur  Gamble  in  Scribner's 
Magazine.  They  were,  however,  all  prepared  with  reference 
to  their  final  use  as  a  consecutive  series.  A.  F. 


TO    ONE 
TO    WHOM   I    OWE 

COLORADO 

AND   MUCH    BESIDES 
THIS   BOOK   IS  INSCRIBED 


PEAK  AND  PRAIRIE. 


I. 

A   PILGRIM   IN   THE   FAR   WEST. 

Peak  was  superb  that  morning,  big  and 
strong,  and  glittering  with  snow.  I^ittle 
Mrs.  Nancy  Tarbell  turned,  after  shutting  and 
locking  the  door  of  her  cottage,  and  looked 
down  the  street,  at  the  end  of  which  the  friendly 
giant  stood  out  against  a  clear  blue  sky.  The 
cotton-wood  trees  on  either  side  of  the  road 
were  just  coming  into  leaf,  and  their  extended 
branches  framed  in  her  mighty  neighbor  in  a 
most  becoming  manner.  The  water  in  the 
irrigating  ditch  beneath  the  trees  was  running 
merrily.  The  sound  of  it  brought  a  wistful 
look  into  the  cheerful  old  face.  It  made  Mrs. 
Nancy  think  of  the  gay  little  brook  in  the 
pasture  behind  the  house  at  home — at  home, 
in  far  New  Kngland. 


peak  an£>  {prairie 


Surely  it  must  have  been  a  strange  wind  of 
destiny  that  wafted  this  unadventurous  little 
woman  across  half  a  continent  to  the  very  foot 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains — a  long  and  weary 
journey  for  the  young  and  vigorous.  Yet  it 
was  something  no  stranger  than  a  mother's 
love  for  her  only  child.  For  "  Willie's  "  sake 
the  widow  Tarbell  had  turned  her  back  upon 
the  dear  New  England  woods  and  meadows, 
upon  the  tidy  village  where  every  man  and 
woman  was  her  friend  ;  for  his  sake  she  had 
come  to  dwell  among  strangers  in  a  strange 
and  barren  land.  The  old  homestead  had  been 
sold,  and  with  the  meagre  proceeds  she  had 
paid  their  way  across  the  prairies,  and  had 
bought  a  little  house  and  a  lot  of  land  on  the 
outskirts  of  Springtown,  while  Willie  looked 
about  him  for  something  to  do.  But  the  enemy 
before  whom  they  had  fled  followed  them  to 
the  high  pure  altitude  it  loves  not,  and  before 
poor  Willie  had  found  anything  to  do,  he  had 
been  ' '  called  up  higher. ' '  This  was  the  phrase 
the  minister  used  at  Willie's  funeral,  and  it  had 
been  peculiarly  comforting  to  the  bereaved 
mother.  She  had  known  well  that  her  boy 
needed  higher  air,  for  that  she  had  come  to 
live  six  thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the 
New  England  pastures.  But  the  I<ord  saw  that 


B  pilgrim  In  tbe  ffar  TKflest  3 

she,  with  her  poor  human  wisdom,  could  not 
lead  him  to  the  needed  height,  and  He  had 
called  him  up  higher  yet,  where  are  blessing 
and  healing  forever.  With  this  abiding  con 
solation  in  her  heart,  Willie's  mother  could 
face  the  shining  Peak  day  after  day  and  month 
after  month  with  a  countenance  as  brave  and 
cheerful  as  his  own.  It  was  only  when  she 
listened  to  the  sound  of  running  waters,  or 
some  other  voice  of  the  past,  that  the  wistful 
look  came  into  her  face. 

Meanwhile  it  was  good  life-giving  air  that 
she  breathed,  and  good  warm  sunshine  that 
rested  upon  her,  as  she  stepped  briskly  on  her 
way.  Her  little  cottage  was  no  longer  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  town.  Stately  mansions  had 
risen  up  about  her,  and  a  long  procession  of 
houses  now  stretched  far  up  to  the  northward. 
The  people  idly  looking  forth  from  the  win 
dows  of  the  stately  mansions,  did  not  realize 
how  much  a  part  of  the  landscape  the  little 
black  figure  had  become,  passing  and  repassing 
their  doors.  A  small  meek  figure  it  was,  with 
little  indication  of  the  bright  spirit  within.  It 
was  her  ' '  best  dress  ' '  of  ten  years  ago  that  she 
now  ' '  wore  common. ' '  The  folds  of  the  skirt, 
cut  in  the  fashion  of  a  by-gone  day,  offered 
ample  accommodation  for  bustle  and  steels, 


Ipeafc  anD  iprairle 


and  in  the  absence  of  these  props  the  gown  had 
a  collapsed,  inconsequent  air.  But  little  Mrs. 
Nancy  had  never  seen  her  own  back,  and  she 
wore  the  gown  with  a  pleased  consciousness  of 
being  well  dressed.  Then  there  was  the  thin 
cashmere  shoulder  cape,  with  the  long  slimpsy 
fringe,  which  Willie,  in  his  pride  and  fondness, 
had  persuaded  her  to  buy,  and  which  had  a 
curiously  jaunty  and  inapt  appearance  on  the 
narrow  shoulders.  The  close  black  felt  bonnet 
was  rusty  and  of  antiquated  shape.  And  since 
few  ever  thought  of  looking  within  these  pro 
saic  externals  to  note  the  delicacy  of  the  soft  old 
cheek,  and  the  sweet  innocence  of  the  faded  blue 
eyes  beneath  the  thin  gray  locks,  it  is  perhaps  no 
wonder  that  the  dwellers  in  the  stately  mansions 
quite  overlooked  their  modest  little,  neighbor. 

Mrs.  Nancy  was  expecting  to  bring  back  her 
marketing  in  the  flat  twine  bag  she  carried, 
and  she  was  also  thinking  of  calling  at  the 
milliner's  and  inquiring  the  cost  of  having  her 
old  black  straw  bonnet  pressed  over  and  re- 
trimmed.  She  held  her  purse  tightly  between 
her  fingers,  encased  in  loose  black  cotton  gloves, 
as  she  tried  to  estimate  the  sum  of  such  an  un 
wonted  outlay.  Her  means  were  very,  very 
slender,  yet  she  could  not  bear  that  Willie's 
mother  should  look  too  shabby. 


B  pilgrim  in  tbe  3Far  Mest  5 

And  was  that  all  ?  Who  knows  but  that 
the  spring  instinct  of  renewal  and  rejuvenation 
played  a  part  in  her  resolve  quite  independent 
of  the  perennial  thought  of  Willie?  The 
drama  of  life  does  not  cease  even  in  the  most 
unobtrusive  consciousness.  It  was  going  on 
in  little  Mrs.  Nancy's  brain  at  every  step  of  her 
morning  walk.  As  the  shriek  of  a  locomotive 
rent  the  air,  a  bright  smile  suddenly  crossed 
her  face.  Her  thoughts  had  taken  a  different 
and  more  inspiring  turn. 

' '  Who  knows, ' '  she  said  to  herself.  ' '  Maybe 
that  is  the  very  engine  that  will  take  me  home 
some  day — when  Atchison  begins  to  pay  again. ' ' 

The  noisy  engines  had  always  a  reassuring 
sound  to  her  ears.  She  would  sometimes  lie  in 
bed  listening  with  rapture  to  their  discordant 
cries.  They  were  the  willing  servants  that 
would  one  day  carry  her  eastward,  miles  upon 
miles,  hours  upon  hours — eastward  to  the  old 
home,  within  smell  of  the  salt  air,  where  there 
were  familiar  faces  to  welcome  her,  familiar 
voices  to  speak  of  Willie. 

The  people  here,  the  few  she  knew,  were 
very  kind,  but  they  seemed  to  have  forgotten 
Willie,  and  she  was  shy  of  speaking  of  him. 
But  all  the  home  folks  would  flock  to  meet 
her,  and  to  hear  of  his  last  brave  hours.  How 


peafc  ant)  prairie 


glad  they  would  be  to  know  that  he  had  lacked 
nothing  !  Atchison  had  given  them  all  they 
needed  while  Willie  was  alive.  She  blessed 
Heaven  for  that. 

She  had  arrived  in  the  business  part  of  the 
town,  where  wagons  and  foot-passengers 
thronged  at  this  hour  of  the  morning.  She 
willingly  let  them  divert  her  thoughts.  She 
liked  the  bustle  and  hurry  of  the  scene.  The 
well-dressed  men  and  women  in  their  trim 
turn-outs  little  guessed  what  pleasure  their 
high-stepping  horses  and  silver- mounted  har 
nesses  gave  to  the  modest  little  woman  thread 
ing  her  way  among  the  people  on  the  side 
walk. 

Suddenly  Mrs.  Nancy's  pleased  survey  of 
the  scene  was  interrupted.  Glancing  down  a 
side  street  she  beheld  a  sight  which  made  her 
heart  beat  hard.  A  big,  rough-looking  man 
was  striding  along  the  sidewalk,  dragging  at 
the  end  of  a  long  pole  a  frightened  white  dog. 
The  dog  was  pulling  back  with  might  and 
main,  scarcely  using  its  unwilling  legs  in  its 
enforced  progress  over  the  ground.  What 
could  it  mean  ?  Was  the  dog  mad  ?  He 
looked  harmless  enough.  They  were  only  a 
few  rods  off,  and  Mrs.  Nancy  soon  overtook 
them.  The  dog  proved  to  be  a  small  white 


B  pilgrim  in  tbe  afar  Meet 


collie,  and  as  she  came  up  with  him  he  gave 
her  an  appealing  look  out  of  his  great  brown 
eyes,'  which  filled  her  with  compassion  and 
indignation. 

' '  What  are  you  doing  with  that  dog  ? ' '  she 
demanded,  in  a  peremptory  tone  of  voice 
quite  out  of  keeping  with  the  rusty  black 
bonnet. 

"  Doin'  ?  "  repeated  the  man,  somewhat  sur 
prised.  "  I  'm  takin'  him  to  the  City  Hall." 

"What  for?" 

"  He  ain't  got  no  license  on." 

* '  And  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  him 
when  you  get  him  there  ? ' ' 

"/  ain't  goin'  to  do  nothin'  more  with 
him." 

' '  Will  they  put  a  license  on  him  ?  ' ' 

"Not  much!  He  won't  need  no  license 
after  to-morrow  morning."  The  man's  grin 
seemed  perfectly  diabolical. 

"You  don't  mean  they  '11  kill  him  ?  " 

"  I  reckon  that  's  about  the  size  of  it." 

"  But  suppose  the  owner  would  rather  pay 
the  license  ? ' '  she  urged. 

' '  Then  he  'd  better  step  round  lively  and  pay 
it.  There  ain't  no  time  to  lose.  The  law  was 
on  the  ist  of  May,  and  the  owner  'd  ought  to 
have  attended  to  it  before  now." 


peafc  an&  prairie 


The  unutterable  tragedy  of  the  situation  was 
heightened  by  the  needless  humiliation  and 
terror  of  the  victim,  and  once  again  Mrs. 
Nancy  protested. 

1 '  What  makes  you  drag  him  at  the  end  of 
that  pole?" 

11 1  ain't  goin'  to  give  him  a  chance  at  my 
breeches,  not  if  I  knows  myself,"  replied  the 
man,  defiantly. 

"  He  would  n't  hurt  your  pantaloons.  See 
how  gentle  he  is  !  "  and  the  little  woman  pulled 
off  her  glove  to  pat  the  pretty  white  head.  As 
the  grateful  creature  licked  her  hand  she  felt  a 
thrill  of  new  pity  and  tenderness.  By  this  time 
they  were  at  the  City  Hall.  "What  do  you 
have  to  pay  for  a  license  ?  ' '  she  asked. 

"Two  good  solid  dollars,"  said  the  man. 
"  I  never  seen  a  dog  yet  that  was  worth  that 
money,  did  you  ?  ' '  And  dog  and  persecutor 
disappeared  together  within  a  sinister-looking 
basement  door. 

Mrs.  Nancy  Tarbell  stood  for  a  moment  irres 
olute,  and  then  she  slowly  wended  her  way 
along  the  sidewalk,  pondering  the  thing  she 
had  seen.  Two  dollars  !  That  was  a  large 
sum  of  money  in  these  hard  times.  Could  she 
possibly  spare  it  ?  She  did  not  know  yet  what 
her  tax  bill  would  be,  but  for  some  unexplained 


B  pilgrim  in  tbe  3far  Wicst 


reason  it  turned  out  to  be  larger  every  year. 
She  supposed  it  was  owing  to  the  improve 
ments  they  were  making  in  the  town,  and  she 
had  too  much  self-respect  to  protest.  But  it 
was  really  getting  to  be  a  serious  matter. 

In  her  perplexity  and  absorption  the  little 
lady  had  turned  eastward,  and  presently  she 
found  herself  close  upon  a  railroad  track  over 
which  a  freight  train  was  slowly  passing.  It 
was  the  Atchison  road,  and  she  watched  with 
interest  the  long,  slow  train. 

"They  appear  to  be  doing  a  good  busi 
ness,  ' '  she  said  to  herself.  ' '  Seems  as  though 
they  might  make  out  to  pay  something  or 
other." 

When  the  train  had  passed  she  stepped 
across  the  track,  looking  with  interest  at  the 
well-laid  rails  and  the  solid  ties.  ' '  Queer, 
is  n't  it?"  she  thought.  "Now  I  own  six 
thousand  dollars  worth  of  that  track,  and  yet 
I  can't  squeeze  out  of  it  enough  to  pay  a  poor 
little  dog's  license." 

She  never  could  think  without  a  feeling  of 
awe  of  the  magnitude  of  the  sum  left  her  by 
her  thrifty  husband,  the  bulk  of  which  sum 
was  represented  by  those  unfruitful  certifi 
cates.  She  stooped  and  felt  the  rails,  looking 
cautiously  up  and  down  the  road  to  be  sure 


to  fteafc  ant>  prairie 


no  train  was  coming.  After  all,  it  was  con 
soling  to  think  that  that  good  honest  steel 
and  timber  was  partly  her  property.  It  was 
not  her  first  visit  to  the  spot. 

"  Queer,  is  n't  it,"  she  reflected,  as  she  had 
often  done  before,  "  that  there  isn't  any  way 
that  I  can  think  of  to  make  my  own  road  take 
me  home  ?  Anyhow  I  '11  buy  that  license  just 
to  spite  'em"  she  exclaimed,  with  sudden  de 
cision  ;  and  shaking  the  dust  of  Atchison  from 
her  feet,  and  the  far  more  bewildering  dust 
of  financial  perplexities  from  her  mind,  she 
walked  quickly  back  to  the  town. 

It  took  a  certain  amount  of  resolution  to 
turn  the  handle  of  the  sinister-looking  door, 
and  the  group  of  men  lounging  in  the.  smok 
ing-room,  and  turning  upon  her  inquisitive 
glances  as  she  entered,  might  even  then  have 
daunted  her,  had  not  her  eye  fallen  upon  a 
dejected  bunch  of  whitish  hair  in  one  corner. 

As  she  stepped  into  the  room,  a  white  tail 
disengaged  itself  from  the  round  hairy  bundle, 
and  began  pathetically  to  beat  the  floor,  while 
two  very  beautiful  and  beseeching  eyes  were 
fixed  upon  her  face.  Had  she  still  been  irreso 
lute  this  mute  appeal  would  have  been  irre 
sistible,  and  suddenly  feeling  as  bold  as  a  lion 
she  stepped  up  to  the  desk  where  the  city 


B  flMlQrfm  in  tbe  jfar  Tldest  n 

marshal  was  throned,  and  demanded  a  license 
for  the  white  dog.  The  two  great  silver  dol 
lars  which  she  drew  from  her  purse  looked 
very  large  to  the  widow  Tarbell,  yet  it  was 
with  a  feeling  of  exultation  that  she  paid 
them  as  ransom  for  the  white  dog.  In  return 
for  the  money  she  received  a  small,  round 
piece  of  metal  with  a  hole  bored  through  it, 
bearing  a  certain  mystic  legend  which  was  to 
act  as  a  talisman  to  the  wearer.  Her  name 
and  address  were  duly  entered  on  the  books. 
Then  her  agitated  little  beneficiary  was  untied 
from  the  chair  leg,  the  rope  which  bound  him 
was  put  into  her  hands,  and  with  a  polite 
courtesy  Mrs.  Tarbell  turned  to  go. 

By  a  sudden  impulse  one  of  the  rough- 
looking  men  got  up  from  his  chair,  and, 
taking  his  hat  off,  opened  the  door.  A  light 
flush  crossed  the  little  woman's  cheek  as  she 
accepted  the  attention,  and  then  the  two  small 
figures,  the  black  and  the  white,  passed  out 
into  the  delicious  Colorado  sunshine. 

"She  looked  'most  too  small  to  handle  that 
big  door,"  said  the  tall  fellow,  apologetically, 
as  he  re-established  his  wide  sombrero  on  the 
back  of  his  head,  and,  resuming  his  seat,  tilted 
his  chair  once  more  against  the  wall.  The 
other  men  smoked  on  in  silence.  No  one  felt 


12  f>eafc  ant)  prairie 


inclined  to  chaff  this  shamefaced  Bayard.  Mrs- 
Tarbell,  meanwhile,  led  her  willing  captive 
along,  delighting  in  his  cheerful  aspect  and 
expressive  tail.  He  was  dirty,  to  be  sure,  and 
he  was  presumably  hungry.  Who  could  tell 
what  hardships  he  had  suffered  before  falling 
into  the  brutal  hands  of  the  law  ?  She  stopped 
to  buy  her  dinner,  to  which  she  added  five 
cents'  worth  of  dog's-meat,  but  the  milliner's 
door  was  passed  coldly  by.  The  old  straw 
would  have  to  serve  her  another  season. 

Before  they  had  gone  two  blocks,  Mrs. 
Nancy  had  named  the  collie  David.  She  had 
no  question  whatever  about  the  name,  for  had 
he  not  been  delivered  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
Philistines  ?  She  was  patient  with  him  when 
he  paused  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  other 
dogs,  and  even  once  when  he  succeeded  in 
winding  the  cord  tightly  about  her  ankles. 
Nevertheless  it  was  a  relief  to  get  him  home, 
and  to  tie  him  to  the  post  of  her  front  porch, 
where  he  established  himself  with  entire  will 
ingness,  and  promptly  dropping  asleep,  forgot 
alike  his  perils  and  his  great  escape. 

The  first  care  of  his  new  friend  on  arriving 
home  was  to  secure  the  license  upon  him. 
He  was  collarless,  and  she  was  a  good  deal 
' '  put  to  it "  to  supply  the  lack.  At  last  she 


flMlarfm  in  tbe  dfar  liWest  13 


resolved  to  sacrifice  her  shawl-strap  in  the 
emergency.  She  might  miss  it,  to  be  sure, 
when  she  came  to  go  home,  but  then,  she  re 
flected,  if  she  were  once  on  her  way  home, 
she  would  not  care  about  any  little  inconven 
ience.  So  as  soon  as  she  and  David  had  had 
a  good  dinner,  she  got  down  the  old  strap, 
which  had  hung  on  a  certain  nail  for  five  long 
years,  and  taking  a  kitchen  knife,  ruthlessly 
chopped  it  off  to  the  right  length.  Then  she 
bored  a  new  hole  with  her  scissors  for  the 
tongue  of  the  buckle  to  pass  through,  and, 
going  to  Willie's  tool  box,  found  a  short  piece 
of  wire  with  which — it  seemed  but  the  other 
day — he  had  been  tinkering  something  about 
the  house.  With  the  wire  she  fastened  the 
license  securely  to  the  collar.  But  before 
David  could  be  found  worthy  of  such  decora 
tion,  he  was  subjected  to  a  pretty  severe  bath 
in  an  old  tub  out  in  the  back  yard. 

Poor  David  !  This  was  a  novel  and  painful 
dispensation,  and  he  submitted  only  under  pro 
test.  But  his  new  mistress  was  firm,  and, 
arrayed  in  her  oldest  calico  gown,  with  spec 
tacles  on  her  nose,  she  applied  herself,  with  the 
energy  and  determination  of  all  her  New  Eng 
land  grandmothers,  to  the  task  of  scrubbing 
and  soaping  and  squeezing  au<?  combing  the 


14  Ipeafc  anD  (prairie 

dirt  out  of  the  long,  thick  hair.  Three  tubs 
of  water  were  barely  sufficient  for  the  process, 
but  finally  David  emerged,  subdued  but  clean, 
looking  very  limp  and  draggled,  and  so  much 
smaller  because  of  his  wet,  close-clinging  coat, 
that  for  a  moment  Mrs.  Nancy  thought,  with 
a  pang,  that  she  might  have  washed  away  a 
part  of  the  original  dog.  I^ater,  however,  when 
the  sun  had  dried  the  fluffy  hair,  and  when  she 
fastened  the  new  collar  about  the  neck  of  the 
spotless  animal,  she  let  him  lick  her  very  face, 
so  delighted  were  they  both  with  the  result  of 
her  labors.  The  rest  of  the  afternoon  they 
passed  amicably  together  on  the  sunny  porch. 
She  would  look  up  occasionally  from  her  sew 
ing,  and  say,  "Good  doggy!"  and  David 
would  immediately  wag  his  tail  in  delighted 
response.  He  was  extremely  mannerly  and 
appreciative  of  the  slightest  attention — always 
excepting  his  enforced  ablutions — and  he 
seemed  to  approve  of  the  kind  eyes  of  his  little 
protectress  as  warmly  as  she  approved  of  his 
cool  leather  nose  and  speaking  ears.  As  often 
as  he  moved,  his  license,  hitting  against  the 
collar  buckle,  made  a  safe,  cheerful  sound,  and 
Mrs.  Nancy  felt  quite  overcome  with  joy  and 
gratitude  at  having  been  the  chosen  instrument 
of  his  preservation.  When  she  lighted  the 


B  pilgrim  in  tbe  tfar  "Meet  15 

lamp  in  the  evening  and  began  her  regular 
game  of  backgammon,  David  curled  himself 
up  at  her  feet  in  a  most  companionable  man 
ner,  and  pricked  his  ears  with  interest  at  the 
fall  of  the  dice. 

But  for  her  backgammon  it  would  be  diffi 
cult  to  imagine  what  Mrs.  Tarbell  would  have 
done  with  her  evenings,  for  her  eyes  were  not 
strong  enough  for  reading  or  sewing.  She 
had  got  the  habit  of  playing  backgammon  with 
Willie,  after  he  became  too  weak  for  more 
active  occupations,  and  they  had  kept  the  score 
in  a  little  green  blank-book.  After  he  died 
she  had  missed  the  game,  and  she  had  found 
it  pleasant  to  take  it  up  again,  and  to  play  for 
both  herself  and  Willie.  The  score,  too,  had 
been  continued  in  the  old  book.  At  the  top 
of  each  new  page  she  wrote  in  her  precise  old- 
fashioned  hand ,  ' l  Mother, "  "  Willie, ' '  and 
under  her  name  all  the  victories  of  the"  whites  ' ' 
were  scored,  while  those  of  the  "  blacks  "  were 
still  recorded  to  Willie's  credit.  After  a  while 
her  eyesight  began  to  fail  still  more,  and  it 
become  necessary  to  lift  the  dice  and  examine 
them  "near  to."  Then  gradually  she  found 
that  the  black  checkers  occasionally  eluded 
her,  and  that  she  was  straining  her  eyes  in  her 
efforts  to  see  them  in  the  shadowy  corners  of 


16  jpeah  anfc  prairie 


the  board.  When  at  last  she  found  that  by 
an  oversight  she  had  committed  a  flagrant  in 
justice  to  Willie's  interests,  she  felt  that  some 
thing  must  be  done.  Being  fertile  in  resource, 
she  presently  bethought  herself  of  the  bright 
colored  wafers  she  had  played  with  in  her 
childhood,  and  to  her  joy  she  found  they  were 
still  to  be  bought.  Having  possessed  herself 
of  a  box  of  them,  she  proceeded  to  stick  a  glit 
tering  gilt  star  upon  each  side  of  each  checker, 
both  black  and  white,  after  which  the  checker 
board  took  on  a  showy  theatrical  appearance. 

Mrs.  Nancy  rarely  felt  lonely  when  playing 
backgammon.  The  click  of  the  dice  sounded 
cheerful  and  sociable  ;  the  checkers,  with  their 
shining  eyes,  seemed  to  take  a  real  interest  in 
the  game  ;  and  when  she  scored  the  result  to 
"Willie"  or  to  "Mother,"  the  old  familiar 
every-day  relation  seemed  restored  between 
them. 

To-night  Willie  was  having  all  the  luck,  and 
that  was  sure  to  put  his  mother  in  the  best  of 
spirits.  She  played  on  and  on,  much  later  than 
her  custom  was,  till  at  last  the  luck  turned, 
and  looking  at  her  flat,  gold-faced  watch,  she 
found,  with  a  shock,  that  it  was  ten  minutes 
after  ten  o'clock. 

"  My  sakes  !  "  she  cried,     "I  ought  to  be 


jptlgrim  in  tbe  3far  "Meet  17 


ashamed  of  myself !  Come,  David,  come  right 
along  to  bed.  You  're  going  to  sleep  on  the 
mat  at  the  back  door. ' ' 

David,  who  was  nothing  if  not  amenable, 
cheerfully  acceded  to  this  arrangement.  Even 
before  his  new  mistress  had  finished  tying  him 
to  the  railing,  he  had  curled  himself  up  on  the 
mat  and  was  fast  asleep.  When  she  patted  him 
on  the  head,  however,  by  way  of  good-night, 
his  tail  gave  a  responsive  wag,  and  little  Mrs. 
Nancy  left  him  with  the  friendliest  feelings. 

The  next  morning  the  dog  was  gone.  Yes, 
incredible  as  it  seems,  that  graceless  dog  was 
gone — gone  without  a  word  of  farewell. 

Mrs.  Nancy  was  standing  gazing  in  dejected 
mood  at  the  fragment  of  string  he  had  left  be 
hind  him,  when  the  milkman,  one  of  her  special 
cronies,  arrived.  The  good-natured  Sam  was 
full  of  sympathy. 

' '  I  reckon  he  came  in  with  some  ranchman 
yesterday,  and  got  lost  in  the  town.  L,ike  as 
not  he 's  gone  home.  Good  Lord!  I  'djust 
like  to  see  that  'ere  ranchman  when  his  dog 
gits  back  with  a  locket  round  his  neck  ! ' ' 

"  I  washed  him  too,  Sam,"  Mrs.  Nancy  la 
mented,  as  she  accompanied  her  visitor  to  the 
gate.  She  was  too  conscientious  to  detain  the 
man  from  the  performance  of  his  duty. 


is  jpeafc  anD  prairie 


"You  washed  him!"  he  cried,  as  he  got 
into  his  cart.  "Jerusalem  !  I  guess  that  's 
the  first  time  a  ranch  dog  ever  got  a  taste  of 
a  bath." 

And  the  cart  rattled  off,  leaving  David's  lit 
tle  friend  standing  at  the  gate.  It  was  just 
after  sunrise,  and  she  looked  down  the  street 
to  the  mountains,  which  were  bathed  in  a 
flood  of  translucent  crimson  reflected  from  the 
east. 

' '  I  wonder  if  the  walls  of  the  heavenly  Jeru 
salem  look  very  different  from  that ! ' '  she 
mused,  as  she  gazed  into  the  deepening  color. 
When  she  turned  back  to  the  house,  she  had 
almost  forgotten  the  ungrateful  runaway  in 
thoughts  of  her  boy  and  his  heavenly  abiding 
place. 

The  next  afternoon  Mrs.  Tarbell  was  sitting 
on  her  front  porch  endeavoring  to  readjust  the 
bows  upon  the  old  straw  bonnet.  She  had 
taken  them  off,  and  sponged  both  ribbon  and 
straw,  and  she  was  now  trying  her  best  to 
make  the  bows  hold  up  their  heads  with  the 
spirit  and  grace  which  distinguish  a  milliner's 
trimming.  She  looked  up  from  time  to  time 
to  enjoy  the  reflection  of  the  trees  in  the  lake 
surrounding  the  house.  For  her  grass  was 
being  flooded  to-day,  and  that  was  always  a 


B  pilgrim  in  tbe  #ar  West  19 


pretty  sight.  "It  looks  almost  as  pretty  as 
Watkins'  pond  out  on  the  Goodham  turn 
pike,"  she  reflected,  as  the  water  glistened  in 
a  broad  expanse.  She  owned  a  good  piece  of 
land,  a  hundred  feet  front.  Willie  had  meant 
to  have  a  vegetable  garden  when  he  had  got 
strong  enough  to  work  in  it. 

A  horseman  had  turned  into  the  street,  and 
came  cantering  toward  the  house.  But  horse 
men  were  part  of  the  landscape  in  Colorado, 
and  she  scarcely  noticed  his  approach  till  a 
joyful  bark  caused  her  to  look  up,  just  in  time 
to  see  David  take  a  flying  leap  over  the  gate 
and  come  dashing  up  to  her. 

"Why,  David!"  she  cried;  and  then  she 
stopped,  abashed,  for  the  horseman  was  already 
tying  his  pony  to  the  post. 

"Mrs.  Tarbell?"  he  questioned,  as  he 
opened  the  gate ;  and  without  waiting  for  an 
answer,  he  went  on  :  "  I '  ve  come  to  thank 
you  for  getting  my  dog  away  from  those 
scoundrels  at  the  City  Hall.  They  had  the 
decency  to  tell  me  where  to  look  for  you. ' ' 

"Oh,  pray  don't  mention  it!"  said  little 
Mrs.  Nancy,  with  old-fashioned  courtesy. 

"  Not  mention  it  !  "  cried  her  visitor.  "  It 
was  the  kindest  thing  I  ever  heard  of.  I  don't 
see  what  made  you  do  it," 


20  peak  anfc  prairie 


"  Oh,  I  couldn't  help  it.  David  looked  so 
miserable  being  dragged  along  at  the  end  of  a 
pole." 

"The  cowards  !  "  he  cried.  "Don't  get  a 
chair,  ma'am.  I  like  the  steps  better.  Did 
you  call  him  David  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  twinkle 
of  amusement  in  his  kind  gray  eyes,  as  he 
seated  himself  on  the  low  step,  with  his  long 
legs  trailing  off  over  the  walk. 

"Well,  yes.  I  didn't  know  what  else  to 
call  him,  and  as  he  'd  been  delivered  out  of  the 
hands  of  the  Philistines " 

"That's  a  good  one!"  cried  the  ranch 
man.  "Come  here,  David.  You've  got  a 
name  now  as  well  as  a  locket.  Do  you  hear 
that?" 

David  had  established  himself  between  his 
master  and  his  rescuer,  and  looked  from  one 
to  the  other  with  evident  satisfaction.  They 
were  soon  engaged  in  an  amicable  conversa 
tion,  quite  unconscious  of  the  picture  they 
were  forming.  The  tall  ranchman,  clad  in  full 
cow-boy  paraphernalia,  his  extended  legs 
encased  in  leathern  "  shaps  "  decorated  with 
long  fringes,  his  belt  of  rattlesnake-skin,  his 
loose  shirt  showing  a  triangle  of  bronzed  throat, 
in  his  hand  the  broad  sombrero  clasped  about 
with  a  silver  band. 


B  pilgrim  in  tbe  ffar  West  21 


L,ittle  Mrs.  Nancy  sitting  upright  in  her 
chair,  in  her  neat  old  black  gown,  holding  the 
forgotten  bonnet  in  her  lap,  watched  her  pic 
turesque  visitor  with  the  greatest  interest. 
And  looking  up  into  the  delicate  little  old  face, 
he  noted  all  the  sweetness  and  brightness 
which  had  so  long  been  lost  upon  the  world. 
To  make  a  clean  breast  of  it,  the  two  fell 
frankly  in  love  with  each  other  upon  the  spot, 
and  before  the  stranger  had  departed,  he  had 
persuaded  her  to  visit  his  ranch  with  him  the 
very  next  Sunday. 

"But  I  don't  know  what  to  call  you,"  she 
said,  after  having  agreed  upon  this  wild  esca 
pade. 

"That 's  so,"  said  he.  "I  go  by  the  name 
of  Wat  Warren  out  here,  but  they  used  to  call 
me  Walter  at  home.  I  wish  you  would  call 
me  Walter." 

"It's  a  pretty  name,"  she  said.  "I 
thought  some  of  calling  my  boy  Walter  at 
first." 

Warren  was  on  the  point  of  departure,  and  a 
sudden  embarrassment  seemed  to  seize  him. 
He  had  his  hand  in  his  trousers'  pocket.  ' '  I 
'most  forgot  the  money  for  the  license,"  he 
stammered,  as  he  pulled  out  a  couple  of  silver 
dollars. 


22  fceafc  ant)  prairie 

Nobody  knows  what  came  over  Mrs.  Nancy, 
but  she  suddenly  found  she  could  not  take  the 
money. 

"Oh,  that's  of  no  consequence,"  she  said, 
quite  as  though  she  had  had  at  her  command 
the  whole  treasury  surplus  of  a  few  years  ago. 
"  I  should  like  to  make  David  a  present  of  the 
license  ;  ' '  and  as  her  two  visitors  departed  at 
full  gallop,  she  sat  down  in  a  flutter  of  pleasur 
able  excitement. 

How  surprising  it  all  was  !  She  looked 
back  upon  the  last  hour  quite  incredulous. 
She  felt  as  though  she  had  known  this  strange 
young  man  all  her  life.  Not  that  he  had  told 
her  much  about  his  own  concerns.  On  the 
contrary,  after  complimenting  her  on  the  sub 
ject  of  David's  collar  and  David's  bath,  he  had 
got  her  talking  about  herself;  and  she  had 
told  him  about  Willie,  and  about  Atchison,  and 
about  her  desire  to  go  home  to  New  England. 

"  My  sakes  !  "  said  she  to  herself;  "what 
a  chatterbox  I  'm  getting  to  be  in  my  old  age  ! 
What  must  he  have  thought  of  me  ?  "  But  in 
her  heart  she  knew  he  had  not  thought  any 
harm  of  her  confidence.  There  had  been  no 
mistaking  the  sympathy  in  that  sunburnt  face, 
and  if  there  had  been  any  doubt  remaining,  the 
hearty  grip  of  the  rough  hand,  which  she  still 


B  ptlflrtm  in  tbe  afar  Uflest  23 

felt  upon  her  palm,  would  have  set  her  mind 
quite  at  rest. 

But  if  Mrs.  Nancy  wondered  at  herself  on 
Tuesday,  she  had  fairly  lost  all  track  of  her 
own  identity  when,  on  Sunday,  she  found  her 
self  seated  beside  her  broad-shouldered  friend 
in  a  light  wagon,  bowling  over  the  prairies 
behind  a  pair  of  frisky  four-year-olds,  while 
David  bounded  beside  them  or  scampered 
about  in  the  vain  pursuit  of  prairie-dogs. 

"  Do  you  feel  afraid  ?  "  asked  her  host,  look 
ing  protectingly  down  upon  the  tiny  figure  at 
his  side. 

"  Not  a  mite,"  she  declared.  "  I  never  was 
one  of  the  scary  kind." 

They  had  left  the  mountains  behind  them 
and  were  speeding  to  the  eastward.  It  seemed 
to  her  that  a  few  hours  of  this  rapid  progress 
would  bring  them  to  the  very  shores  of  the 
Atlantic.  On  and  on  they  went  over  the  un 
dulating  yellow  plains.  As  they  neared  the 
top  of  each  rise  of  ground  Mrs.  Nancy's  heart 
stood  still  in  a  strange  fantastic  suspense. 
Would  there  be  trees  over  beyond,  or  lakes, 
or  rivers,  or  perhaps  a  green  New  England 
meadow  ? 

11  Is  n't  it  like  sailing  ?  "  said  her  companion 
as  they  bowled  along. 


24  fceafc  anfc  prairie 


"  I  never  went  sailing,"  Mrs.  Nancy  replied. 
"I  've  only  been  out  in  a  boat  on  the  pond, 
and  I  think  this  is  pleasanter. ' ' 

They  did  little  talking  on  that  drive.  Mrs. 
Nancy  was  too  entirely  absorbed  in  her  new 
experience  to  have  much  to  say.  But  when  at 
last  they  reached  the  ranch,  lying  like  an 
oasis  in  the  vast  barren,  with  young  corn 
sprouting  in  the  wide  fields,  and  a  handful  of 
cotton- wood  trees  clustered  about  the  house, 
the  tears  fairly  started  to  the  little  woman's 
eyes,  so  much  did  this  bit  of  rural  landscape 
remind  her  of  her  own  far-away  New  England. 
And  when  the  master  of  the  house  led  the  way 
into  a  neat  little  room,  with  a  south  window 
looking  across  the  plains,  it  came  his  turn  for 
confidences. 

' *'  This  room  was  built  on  for  my  mother, ' ' 
he  said. 

' '  Did  she  live  here  with  you  ?  ' ' 

' '  No  ;  she  died  before  she  could  get  here. ' ' 

"  Oh  dear  !  "  said  his  little  visitor. 

The  two  small  words  were  eloquent  with 
sympathy. 

That  was  a  red-letter  day  for  Mrs.  Nancy 
Tarbell.  She  felt  as  though  she  were  getting 
a  glimpse  of  the  great  West  for  the  first  time 
in  all  these  years.  When  her  host  casually 


B  pilgrim  in  tbe  tfar  Meet  25 


informed  her  that  he  owned  about  seven 
square  miles  of  land  and  two  hundred  head  of 
cattle,  she  gave  a  little  gasp  of  amazement. 

"I  always  wanted  to  see  a  cattle  ranch," 
she  said. 

"Oh,  this  is  no  cattle  ranch.  It  's  only  a 
dairy."  And  he  took  her  about  through  the 
many  sheds  and  barns,  which  were  hidden  in 
a  hollow  a  few  rods  away.  Here  he  showed 
her  his  ice-houses,  his  huge  churns,  and  his 
mammoth  "  separator  "  that  went  whirling 
around,  dividing  the  cream  from  hundreds  of 
gallons  of  milk  in  the  time  it  would  have  taken 
her  to  skim  a  couple  of  three-pint  pans. 

"  Sakes  alive  !  "  she  exclaimed  again  and 
again,  as  these  wonders  were  explained  to  her 
— "  sakes  alive  !  what  would  our  folks  say  to 
that?" 

"  You  '11  have  a  great  deal  to  tell  them  when 
you  go  back,"  said  Warren,  studying  her 
animated  face. 

"  If  I  ever  go,"  she  said,  with  a  little 
sigh. 

This  was  after  dinner,  which  had  been  a 
savory  meal  served  by  a  man  cook. 

' '  Do  you  want  very  much  to  go  ?  " 

11  Oh  yes  !  I  shall  go  just  as  soon  as  ever 
Atchison  begins  to  pay  again.  I  hope  I 


26  peak  anfc  prairie 


have  n't  any  false  pride,"  she  added,  depre- 
catingly ,  ' '  but  I  can  live  cheaper  here  than  I 
should  be  willing  to  there,  where  I  've  seen 
better  days." 

Brave  little  Mrs.  Nancy  !  It  was  not  indeed 
false  pride  that  deterred  her,  but  the  fear  of 
being  a  burden  to  others. 

They  were  sitting  in  the  big  living-room, 
which  on  this  great  occasion  had  been  made 
as  neat  as  her  own  little  parlor.  Antlers  and 
other  strange  trophies  ornamented  the  walls, 
where  also  guns  and  spurs  and  lassos  hung. 
The  little  woman  did  not  seem  in  the  least  out 
of  place  among  these  warlike  objects.  She  sat 
in  an  old  leathern  chair,  her  feet  on  a  coyote- 
skin,  looking  about  her  with  quick  bright 
motions  that  made  the  big  fellow  think  of  the 
shy  field  creatures  that  sometimes  strayed  over 
his  threshold — ground  squirrels,  rabbits,  and 
the  like.  David  lay  curled  up  close  beside 
her,  and  half  a  dozen  less-favored  dogs  looked 
wistfully  in  from  time  to  time.  Warren  was 
wondering  whether  she  could  possibly  fit  in 
naturally  to  the  stiff,  scant  New  England  life 
which  he  had  fled  away  from  when  a  boy. 
Presently  he  said  : 

' '  Have  you  any  idea  how  much  your  house 
and  land  are  worth  ?  ' ' 


B  flMlcjnm  in  tbe  tfar  TKSiest  27 


"  Oh  yes  !  We  paid  ten  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars  for  it  when  the  house  was  new,  but  it 's 
a  good  deal  out  of  repair  now. ' ' 

' '  But  you  know  real  estate  is  pretty  high 
here  just  now." 

Struck  by  the  peculiar  emphasis  with  which 
he  spoke,  Mrs.  Nancy  gave  him  a  startled  look. 
' '  Why — why — what  do  you  mean  ?  ' ' 

"  Well,  I  was  talking  with  a  real-estate  man 
about  the  value  of  land  the  other  day,  and  he 
said  you  could  realize  six  thousand  dollars  on 
your  place  any  day." 

"Six— thousand  — dollars  ?  " 

"  Yes,  six  thousand  dollars." 

"Why,  that 's  just  what  we  had  in  Atchi- 


son 


"  Well,  I  guess  there  's  no  question  but  that 
you  could  get  that  for  your  land  to-morrow. ' ' 

It  had  indeed  been  an  eventful  day,  and  it 
was  followed  by  a  sleepless  night.  For  years 
little  Mrs.  Nancy  had  had  one  great  wish,  and 
suddenly  it  was  to  be  fulfilled.  She  could  go 
home— home  to  New  England,  to  the  village 
where  she  was  born,  to  the  village  where 
everybody  knew  her,  where  they  would  talk 
of  Willie.  Through  the  hours  of  the  night, 
which  sped  fast,  she  thought  and  thought  of 
the  home-coming.  She  passed  in  review  all 


28  fceafc  ant)  prairie 

her  old  neighbors,  forgetting  for  the  moment 
how  many  would  be  found  missing  ;  she  wan 
dered  in  spirit  through  the  familiar  pastures, 
beneath  the  green  trees,  beside  the  pond  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill.  Suddenly  a  strange  suggestion 
intruded  itself  upon  her  thoughts.  Must  it  not 
be  ''kind  o'  damp  "  with  all  that  swamp  land 
so  near  by,  and  the  great  elm-trees  so  close 
about  the  house  ?  Her  house  no  longer,  how 
ever.  It  had  passed  into  the  hands  of  strangers 
— city  people,  whom  she  did  not  know.  She 
wondered  where  she  should  live.  She  should 
want  to  be  independent,  and  she  should  hate 
to  "board  out." 

But  with  the  alloy  of  perplexity  her  radiant 
visions  faded,  and  she  fell  asleep.  For  the 
first  time  in  all  these  years  the  milkman  found 
locked  doors.  He  would  not  disturb  the  ' '  little 
widdy,"  but  when  he  had  left  the  can  upon 
the  back  steps  he  turned  away,  feeling  some 
what  aggrieved. 

The  next  morning,  after  her  house  was  set 
in  order  and  her  marketing  done,  Mrs.  Nancy 
sat  herself  down  in  her  porch  to  darn  her 
stockings.  She  had  formed  the  habit,  for 
Willie's  sake,  of  doing  all  the  work  possible 
out  in  the  air  and  sunshine,  and  she  still  clung 
to  all  the  habits  that  were  associated  with  him. 


B  pilgrim  in  tbe  afar  TKKest  29 

Her  weekly  darning  was  a  trifling  piece  of 
work,  for  every  hole  which  ventured  to  make 
its  appearance  in  those  little  gray  stockings 
was  promptly  nipped  in  the  bud. 

The  water  was  merrily  flowing  in  the  irri 
gating  ditch,  a  light  breeze  was  rustling  in  the 
cotton  woods  before  the  door,  while  the  pass 
ing  seemed  particularly  brisk.  Two  small 
boys  went  cantering  by  on  one  bareback  horse  ; 
a  drove  of  cattle  passed  the  end  of  the  street 
two  or  three  rods  away,  driven  by  mounted 
cow-boys ;  a  collection  of  small  children  in  a 
donkey  cart  halted  just  before  her  door,  not  of 
their  own  free  will,  but  in  obedience  to  a  caprice 
of  the  donkey's.  They  did  not  hurt  Mrs.  Nan 
cy's  feelings  by  cudgelling  the  fat  little  beast, 
but  sat  laughing  and  whistling  and  coaxing 
him  until,  of  his  own  accord,  he  put  his  big 
flapping  ears  forward  as  though  they  had  been 
sails,  and  ambled  on.  There  were  pretty  turn 
outs  to  watch,  and  spirited  horses,  and  Mrs. 
Nancy  found  her  mind  constantly  wandering 
from  what  she  meant  should  be  the  subject  of 
her  thoughts. 

When  the  postman  appeared  around  the  cor 
ner  he  came  to  her  gate  and  lifted  the  latch. 
It  was  not  time  for  her  small  bank  dividend. 
The  letter  must  be  from  her  husband's  sister- 


30  peak  anD  prattle 


in-law,  who  wrote  to  her  about  twice  a  year. 
As  Mrs.  Nancy  sat  down  to  read  the  letter 
her  eyes  rested  for  a  moment  upon  the 
mountains. 

' '  If  Almira  could  have  come  with  the  letter 
she  'd  have  thought  those  snowy  peaks  well 
worth  the  journey,"  she  said  to  herself.  And 
then  she  read  the  letter. 

Here  it  is : 

"  DEAR  NANCY, — Excuse  my  long  silence,  but  I  've 
been  suffering  from  rheumatism  dreadfully,  and 
have  n't  had  the  spirit  to  write  to  anybody  but  my 
Almira.  It 's  been  so  kind  of  lonesome  since  she  went 
away  that  I  guess  that 's  why  the  rheumatism  got  such 
a  hold  of  me.  When  you  ain't  got  anybody  belong 
ing  to  you,  you  get  kind  of  low-spirited.  Then  the 
weather — it  's  been  about  as  bad  as  I  ever  seen  it. 
Not  a  good  hard  rain,  but  a  steady  drizzle-drozzle  day 
after  day.  You  can't  put  your  foot  out  of  doors  with 
out  getting  your  petticoats  draggled.  But  you  '11 
want  to  hear  the  news.  Cousin  Joshua  he  died  last 
month,  and  the  place  was  sold  to  auction.  Deacon 
Stebbins  bought  it  low.  He  's  getting  harder-fisted 
every  year.  Eliza  Stebbins  she  's  pretty  far  gone  with 
lung  trouble,  living  in  that  damp  old  place  ;  but  he 
won't  hear  to  making  any  change,  and  she  ain't  got 
life  enough  left  to  ask  for  it.  Both  her  boys  is  off  to 
Boston.  Does  seem  as  though  you  could  n't  hold  the 
young  folks  here  with  ropes,  and  I  don't  know  who  's 
going  to  run  the  farms  and  the  corner  store  when 
we  're  gone.  Going  pretty  fast  we  be  too.  They  've 


B  pilgrim  in  tbe  ffar  IHflest  31 

been  eight  deaths  in  the  parish  since  last  Thanks 
giving  —  Mary  Jane  Evans  and  me  was  counting  them 
up  last  sewing  circle.  Mr.  Williams,  the  new  min 
ister,  made  out  as  we  'd  better  find  a  more  cheerful 
subject  ;  but  we  told  him  old  Parson  Edwards  before 
him  had  given  us  to  understand  that  it  was  profitable 
and  edifying  to  the  spiritual  man  to  dwell  on  thoughts 
of  death  and  eternity.  They  do  say  that  Parson  Wil 
liams  would  be  glad  to  get  another  parish.  He  's  a 
stirring  kind  of  man,  and  there  ain't  overmuch  to 
stir,  round  here.  I  sometimes  wish  I  could  get  away 
myself.  I  'd  like  to  go  down  to  Boston  and  board  for 
a  spell,  jest  to  see  somebody  passing  by  ;  but  they  say 
board  's  high  down  there  and  living  's  poor  ;  and,  after 
all,  it  's  about  as  easy  to  stick  it  out  here.  I  don't 
know  though  's  I  wonder  that  you  feel  's  you  do  about 
coming  home.  'T  ain't  what  you  're  used  to  out  West, 
and  I  don't  suppose  you  ever  feel  real  easy  in  your 
mind  from  cow-boys  and  Indians  and  wild  animals.  I 
was  reading  only  yesterday  about  a  grizzly-bear  that 
killed  a  man  right  there  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and 
I  'm  glad  you  feel  's  you  do  about  coming  home.  I 
should  like  to  think  that  you  'd  be  here  to  close  niy 
eyes  at  the  last. 

"But  no  more  at  present.     This   is   quite  a  letter 
for  me.     Your  true  friend, 

TARBEI.I,. 


«  p.S.  —  You  remember  my  old  tabby  that  I  set  such 
store  by  ?  She  died  along  in  March,  and  I  buried  her 
under  the  sugar-maple  side  of  the  barn.  The  maples 
did  n't  do  as  well  this  year." 


32  peafc  anfc  prairie 

"  Poor  Almira,"  said  the  little  widow,  fold 
ing  the  letter  with  a  sigh  ;  "she  's  having  a 
real  hard  time.  I  do  feel  for  her,  I  declare." 

An  hour  after,  when  her  new  friends  Warren 
and  David  came  to  inquire  how  she  had  borne 
the  fatigues  of  her  yesterday's  drive,  they  found 
her  sitting  with  the  letter  in  her  hands.  There 
was  a  bright  flush  on  her  cheeks,  and  a  look 
of  perplexity  in  her  blue  eyes. 

"Fine  day,  is  n't  it?"  said  Warren,  while 
David  wagged  his  tail  till  it  almost  touched 
his  ears. 

"Yes,  it  's  a  very  fine  day.  'Pears  to  me 
Colorado  never  did  look  so  nice  as  it  does 
to-day." 

"That  is  because  you  are  thinking  of  leaving 
us,"  Warren  rejoined,  thoughtfully  pulling  the 
ears  of  David,  who  could  scarcely  contain  him 
self  for  joy  at  being  the  object  of  such  a 
flattering  attention. 

.  ' '  I  don't  know  's  I  should  be  in  such  a  hurry 
to  go  right  straight  away,  even  if  I  could  sell 
my  land,"  said  the  widow,  slipping  the  letter 
into  her  pocket  with  a  guilty  air. 

They  chatted  awhile  in  the  bright  sunshine, 
and  Warren  soon  had  an  inkling  of  the  little 
woman's  state  of  mind. 

"  I  don't  suppose,  now,  you  'd  be  willing  to 


B  flMlcjrtm  in  tbe  jfar  "Meet  33 


take  a  ground-rent  on  the  other  half  of  your 
land  if  a  desirable  party  should  apply  ?  A  rent, 
say,  for  five  years,  with  the  privilege  of  pur 
chase  at  the  expiration  of  the  term  ? ' ' 

The  long  words  sounded  very  technical  and 
business-like,  yet  rather  agreeable  too. 

1 '  You  mean  somebody  might  like  to  build  on 
my  land?" 

4 'That's  the  idea,"  said  Warren.  "Fact  is," 
he  went  on,  after  a  pause,  "  I  happen  to  know 
a  nice,  steady  young  fellow  who  is  thinking  of 
getting  married.  He  told  me  he  would  be 
willing  to  pay  $300  and  taxes." 

"Three  hundred  dollars  !  "  cried  the  won 
dering  little  land-owner.  ' '  Why,  I  should  feel 
like  a  rich  woman  !  ' ' 

"  Well,  the  land  's  worth  it,  and  the  young 
man  's  able  to  pay." 

The  air  was  growing  warmer  and  sweeter 
every  minute,  and  the  water  in  the  irrigating 
ditch  sounded  quite  jubilant  as  it  raced  past 
the  house.  Yes,  Colorado  was  a  pleasant 
place  to  live  in,  especially  with  Walter  Warren 
for  a  neighbor  only  ten  miles  away.  The  ranch 
did  not  seem  at  all  far  off  since  that  rapid  drive 
across  the  prairies. 

She  sat  so  long  silent  that  her  visitor  felt  he 
must  offer  greater  inducements,  He  began 


34  fceafc  anfc  iprairie 


pulling  David's  ears  so  vigorously  that  a  dog 
of  a  less  refined  perception  might  have  howled 
remonstrance,  and  then,  while  the  color 
deepened  in  the  sunburnt  face  and  an  engaging 
shyness  possessed  him,  Warren  said,  "Per 
haps  you  'd  take  more  kindly  to  the  arrange 
ment  if  you  knew  who  the  young  man  was  ?  ' ' 

"  My  dear,  are  you  going  to  get  married?  " 
cried  Mrs.  Nancy,  forgetting  alike  her  perplexi 
ties  and  her  dreams  of  opulence. 

"Well,  yes,  I  am  ;  some  time  next  fall.  She 
lives  back  East  ;  and  I  thought  it  would  be 
nice  to  have  a  little  place  in  town  where  we 
could  stay  through  the  offseasons.  You  '11  let 
us  come,  won't  you  ?  "  he  cried,  with  a  look  of 
boyish  beseeching.  ' '  I  know  you  would  if  you 
could  see  Jenny.  She  's  so  sweet  !  ' ' 

The  momentous  visit  was  over  ;  Warren  had 
had  his  turn  at  confidences,  and  was  now 
striding  down  the  street,  with  David  at  his 
heels. 

The  little  widow  stood  at  the  gate,  her  heart 
feeling  bigger  and  warmer  than  for  many  a 
long  day.  Once  more  she  looked  down 
under  the  row  of  cotton  woods,  which  had 
come  into  full  leaf  during  the  past  week, 
looked  to  where  her  giant  mountain  neighbor 
stood,  strong  and  constant  as  an  old  friend. 


flMlcirfm  in  tbe  tfar  West  35 


The  air  seemed  clearer,  the  sunshine  brighter, 
than  ever  before.  The  running  stream  was 
singing  its  own  gay  song,  and  for  once  it  waked 
no  longing  in  her  breast.  As  Mrs.  Nancy 
turned  to  walk  up  the  path,  she  drew  forth 
Almira's  letter,  not  without  a  momentary  pang 
of  remorse.  With  the  letter  in  her  hand  she 
paused  again,  and  looked  and  listened  as 
though  she  would  drink  in  the  whole  of  Colo 
rado  at  one  draught.  Suddenly  a  gleam  of 
roguish  wilfulness  came  into  the  sweet  old  face, 
and  speaking  half  aloud,  she  murmured, 

"  I  don't  know  but  I'm  getting  to  be  a  heart 
less  old  woman,  but — I  'm  afraid  I  'd  full  as 
lief  somebody  else  closed  Almira's  eyes  for 
her!" 

And  with  this  revolutionary  sentiment  the 
faithless  little  New  Englander  passed  into  the 
house  that  had  at  last  taken  on  the  dignity  and 
the  preciousness  of  a  home. 


II. 

BRIAN    BORU. 

SIR  BRYAN  PARKHURST,  a  young  Irish 
sportsman  just  over  from  the  old  country, 
was  rather  disappointed  in  Colorado  ;  and  that 
was  a  pity,  considering  that  he  had  crossed  an 
ocean  and  half  a  continent  to  get  there.  The 
climate,  to  be  sure,  was  beyond  praise,  and 
climate  is  what  Colorado  is  for,  as  any  resident 
of  Springtown  will  tell  you.  Nature,  too,  was 
very  satisfactory.  He  liked  the  way  the  great 
mass  of  Rocky  Mountains  thrust  itself  up,  a 
mighty  barrier  against  the  west,  perfectly  re 
gardless  of  scenic  conventionalities.  There 
was  something  refreshingly  democratic  about 
the  long  procession  of  peaks,  seeming  to  be  all 
of  about  the  same  height.  In  that  third  week 
of  September  not  a  single  one  of  them  all  wore 
the  ermine,  though  their  claim  to  that  distinc 
tion,  measured  by  their  altitude,  equalled  that 
of  their  snow-clad  cousins  of  another  hemi- 
36 


JSrian  JSoru  37 


sphere.  On  the  other  hand,  Sir  Bryan  pleased 
himself  with  fancying  that  the  splashes  of 
golden  aspen  and  crimson  sumac  on  the 
mountain  sides,  contrasting  with  the  brilliant, 
unalterable  blue  of  the  sky,  had  a  Star- 
Spangled-Banner  effect — a  thing  which  the 
British  tourist  is  always  delighted  to  discover. 

Truth  to  tell,  it  was  the  people  that  bothered 
Sir  Bryan.  In  dress,  in  manners, — he  some 
times  feared  in  morals,  they  lacked  the  strong 
flavor  which  he  had  confidently  looked  for. 
They  did  not  wear  flannel  shirts  in  general 
society  ;  they  did  not  ask  impertinent  ques 
tions  ;  a  whiskey  cocktail  did  not  seem  to  play 
a  necessary  part  in  the  ceremony  of  introduc 
tion  ;  the  almighty  dollar  itself  did  not  stalk 
through  every  conversation,  putting  the  refine 
ments  of  life  to  the  blush.  In  short,  Sir  Bryan 
found  himself  forced  to  base  his  regard  for  his 
new  acquaintances  upon  such  qualities  as  good 
breeding,  intelligence,  and  a  cordial  yet  dis 
criminating  hospitality, — qualities  which  he 
was  perfectly  familiar  with  at  home. 

He  sometimes  wondered  whether  the  taint  of 
civilization  might  not  already  have  attached 
itself  to  the  grizzly  bear  and  the  mountain 
lion,  for  whose  inspiring  acquaintance  he  had 
ardently  pined  since  boyhood.  He  was  on  the 


38  fteafc  an£>  iprairie 


eve  of  going  to  pay  his  respects  to  these  wor 
thies  in  their  own  mountain  fastnesses,  and, 
meanwhile,  was  getting  himself  in  training  by 
walking  great  distances  with  a  rifle  over  his 
shoulder. 

In  the  course  of  the  last  of  his  extended 
tramps — for  he  was  due  to  join  that  inveterate 
sportsman,  Lord  lyongshot,  at  Denver,  on  the 
following  day, — he  found  himself  passing 
through  a  wilderness  of  loveliness.  He  had 
entered  what  he  would  have  termed,  with  the 
genial  inaccuracy  of  his  race,  a  ' '  boundless  en 
closure,"  and  having  crossed  a  vast,  yellowish 
field,  populous  with  scrawny  cattle  and  self- 
important  prairie-dogs,  he  was  following  a 
well-marked  road,  which  led  alluringly  up 
hill.  Thousands  of  scrub-oaks,  in  every  shade 
of  bronze  and  russet,  massed  themselves  on 
either  hand,  and  in  among  them  tufts  of  yellow 
asters  shone,  and  here  and  there  a  belated  gilia 
tossed  its  feathery  plume.  Scattered  groups 
of  pine  trees  that  scorn  the  arid  plains  were 
lording  it  over  the  bolder  slopes  of  the  moun 
tain  side.  The  steep  road  went  on  its  winding 
way,  after  the  manner  of  its  kind,  dipping  oc 
casionally  to  meet  a  bridge  of  planks,  beneath 
which  flowed  a  stream  of  autumn  colors. 
After  a  while  Sir  Bryan  found  the  ascent  too 


3Brian  JBoru  39 


gradual  for  his  ambition,  and,  leaving  the  road 
to  make  its  way  as  it  would,  he  pushed  upwards 
through  the  bushes.  Kvery  step  brought  him 
nearer  the  gigantic  crags  which  formed  the 
buttresses  of  the  mountain,  and  looked  wild 
and  impregnable  enough  to  be  the  haunt  of  the 
grizzly  himself. 

The  young  man's  thoughts  were  dwelling 
fondly  upon  the  grizzly  of  his  dreams,  when  he 
beheld  a  sight  that  sent  the  blood  back  to  his 
heart  with  a  rush.  Not  fifty  yards  away,  in  a 
sunny  opening,  lay  a  mass  of  brownish  fur 
which  could  belong  to  nobody  but  a  bear  in 
propria  persona.  Great  Caesar  !  Could  it  be 
possible  ?  Almost  too  agitated  to  breathe,  Sir 
Bryan  moved  cautiously  toward  the  creature, 
covering  it  with  his  rifle.  The  bear,  with  the 
politeness  which  appeared  to  cling  to  all  classes 
of  society  in  this  effetely  civilized  West,  rose  up 
and  sat  on  his  haunches,  facing  his  visitor. 
Sir  Bryan  fired  and  the  bear  tumbled  over  like 
a  ninepin. 

Sir  Bryan  Parkhurst,  as  became  a  young 
Irish  baronet,  had  enjoyed  his  share  of  sensa 
tions  in  life.  A  year  previous  he  had  almost 
broken  his  neck  riding  across  country,  and  had 
won  the  brush  into  the  bargain.  He  had  once 
saved  a  man  from  drowning  on  the  coast  of  Corn- 


40  f>eafc  anfc  prairie 

wall.     He  had  come  into  his  title  unexpectedly, 
and  made  his  new  tenantry  adore  him.     To 
crown  all,  he  had,  at  a  still  poignantly  recent 
date,  practically  refused  the  hand  of  an  English 
heiress.     But  he  had  never  before  shot  a  bear, 
nor  indeed  had  he  ever  seen  one  outside  the 
Zoo.     As  he  steadfastly  regarded  the  heap  of 
brown  fur,  a  sinister  doubt  invaded  his  mind. 
Might  it  be  a  cow,  after  all  ?    Forgetful  of  the 
well-established  fact  in   natural  history  that 
cows  never  sit  on  their  haunches,  even  with  a 
view  to  serving  as   target   to    an    ambitious 
sportsman,  he  cautiously  approached  his  victim. 
It  was  unquestionably  a  bear,  though  not  of 
a  terrific  aspect.     Sir  Bryan  examined  the  life 
less  body  with  the  keenest  interest.     He  had 
seen  a  domestic  pig  which  would  have  weighed 
more  ;  he  had  encountered  more  than  one  dog 
of  a  more  dangerous  appearance  ;  yet,  when 
all  was  said,  a  bear  was  a  bear. 

Sir  Bryan  seated  himself  upon  a  rock  to  re 
flect  upon  his  next  step.  It  was  close  upon 
midday.  He  thought  he  must  be  some  eight 
miles  from  town.  When  he  had  enjoyed  his 
bear  for  a  few  minutes,  he  would  return  there 
and  get  some  men  to  come  and  cart  the  carcass 
to  town.  He  would  have  the  skin  removed  and 
cured,  and  the  meat — 


JBrian  Boru  41 


"  Brian!     Brian  Boru  !  " 

The  words  came  ringing  up  the  mountain 
slope  in  a  bell-like  soprano.  Why  should  a 
bell-like  soprano  call  the  name  of  the  old  Irish 
king  in  this  remote  wilderness?  Was  there 
witchery  at  work  ?  Was  the  bear  merely  a 
part  of  the  phantasmagoria  of  an  enchanted 
region  ? 

Sir  Bryan,  undeterred  by  these  suggestions 
of  his  fancy,  lifted  up  his  voice  and  shouted 
"  Hulloo  !  "  and  behold  !  a  few  minutes  later, 
a  horse  came  pushing  through  the  scrub-oaks, 
bearing  upon  his  back  an  enchanted  princess. 
As  was  to  be  expected  of  a  Colorado  princess, 
enchanted  or  otherwise,  she  had  not  quite  the 
traditional  appearance.  In  lieu  of  a  flowing 
robe  of  spotless  white,  she  was  clad  in  a  plain 
black  skirt  and  a  shirt  waist  of  striped  cam 
bric,  while  the  golden  fillet,  if  such  she  wore, 
was  quite  concealed  by  a  very  jaunty  sailor- 
hat,  than  which  no  fillet  could  have  been  more 
becoming.  In  short,  the  pleasing  vision  which 
Sir  Bryan  beheld  was  far  more  to  his  taste  than 
any  princess  of  fairy  lore  could  have  been.  As 
he  sprang  to  his  feet  and  lifted  his  hat  he  won 
dered  whether  the  expression  "nut-brown 
maid"  was  poetry.  If  so,  he  had  performed 
an  unprecedented  feat  in  recalling  it  so  aptly. 


42  fteafe  an£>  prairie 

There  is  a  difference  in  the  way  men  lift  their 
hats,  and  Sir  Bryan's  way  was  a  charming 
one. 

' '  Did  you  call  ? ' '  asked  the  nut-brown  maid. 
"  No  ;  I  only  answered  when  I  heard  you 
call  my  name." 

"  Is  your  name  Brian  Boru  ?  "  she  inquired, 
with  animation. 

"  I  am  an  Irishman,  and  my  name  is  Bryan, 
so  they  used  to  call  me  Brian  Boru." 

' '  How  very  curious  !  That  is  the  name  of 
my  bear  ! ' ' 

"Of  your  bear?"  he  repeated  in  blank 
amazement. 

"Yes.     Have  you  seen  anything  of  him? 
I  'm  a  little  near-sighted  and— 
Sir  Bryan  Parkhurst  never  shirked  a  dilemma. 
"I've  just  shot  a   bear,"   he  blurted  out, 
"but  I  hope,    with  all   my    heart,   it  wasn't 
yours  !  ' ' 

"  Shot  a  bear  ?  "  cried  the  girl,  in  consterna 
tion.  "  Oh  !  how  could  you  ?  ' ' 

Before  Sir  Bryan  could  reach  out  a  helping 
hand,  her  feet  were  on  the  ground. 

' '  Where  is  he  ?  Oh  !  where  is  he  ?  "  she 
cried  in  tragic  accents. 

Sir  Bryan  pointed  to  the  prostrate  form  of 
the  murdered  bear.  Alas  !  It  must  have  been 


38rfan  $oru  43 


her  bear,  for  she  knelt  down  beside  him,  and 
gazed  upon  him  long  and  mournfully. 

And  truly  there  was  something  pathetic 
about  the  victim,  viewed  from  this  new  stand 
point.  He  lay  on  his  side,  exposing  the  wound, 
which  was  clotted  with  blood.  His  small  eyes 
were  open,  and  a  red  tongue  just  visible 
between  his  parted  teeth.  One  short,  rigid, 
foreleg  was  stretched  out  as  though  in 
remonstrance,  and  just  within  its  embrace  a 
fading  spray  of  gilia  lifted  its  fragile  blos 
soms. 

Sir  Bryan  stood  lost  in  contemplation  of  this 
singular  scene  ;  the  graceful  figure  of  the  kneel 
ing  girl,  bending  over  the  mass  of  coarse  brown 
fur  ;  the  flower,  standing  unscathed  close  be 
side  the  long,  destructive  claws.  A  few  yards 
away,  the  horse  lazily  whisked  his  tail,  while 
to  the  right  the  frowning  crags  rose,  so  near 
and  steep  that  they  seemed  about  to  topple 
over  and  make  an  end  of  the  improbable  situa 
tion. 

At  last  the  girl  lifted  her  head,  murmuring, 
"  Straight  through  the  heart  !  " 

The  sportsman's  vanity  gave  a  little  throb. 
It  was  a  pretty  shot,  by  Jove  !  He  moved 
nearer. 

"  I  'm  no  end  sorry  about  it,"  he  declared. 


44  peafc  ant>  fcrairle 


Alas,  for  that  throb  of  vanity  !  His  con 
trition  did  not  have  the  true  ring. 

The  girl  turned  upon  him  with  quick  dis 
trust.  No,  he  was  more  glad  than  sorry. 

1 '  If  we  were  in  England, ' '  she  cried,  with 
withering  scorn,  "  you  would  have  to  be  more 
than  sorry." 

"In  England?" 

"Yes,  in  England,  or  in  Ireland,  or  any 
where  round  there.  If  I  'd  shot  so  much  as  a 
miserable  pheasant  on  your  land  you  '  d  have 
— you  'd  have  had  me  up  before  the  bailey  /  " 

Clearly  the  girl's  reading  of  English  fiction 
had  confused  her  ideas  of  British  magistracy. 
But  Sir  Bryan  was  generous,  and  overlooked 
side  issues. 

"  Is  this  your  land?  "  he  asked,  gazing  at 
the  wild  mountain  side,  and  then  at  the  flam 
ing  cheeks  of  the  girl.  She  stood  there  like 
an  animated  bit  of  autumn  coloring. 

"  Of  course  it  's  my  land,"  she  declared. 

"  But  I  did  n't  know  it  was  your  land." 

"  You  knew  it  was  n't  yours  !  "  she  cried 
vehemently. 

Poor  Sir  Bryan  was  hopelessly  bewildered. 
The  great  West  was,  after  all,  not  quite  like 
the  rest  of  the  world,  if  charming  young  ladies 
owned  the  mountain  sides,  danced  attendance 


JSrtan  JBoru  45 

upon  by  bears  of  dangerous  aspect  and  polished 
manners.  He  blushed  violently,  but  he  did 
not  look  in  the  least  awkward. 

' '  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  your  name, ' '  he 
said,  feeling  that  if  this  remarkable  young  lady 
possessed  anything  so  commonplace  as  a  name, 
the  knowledge  of  it  might  place  him  on  a  more 
equal  footing  with  her. 

"  Certainly,  Mr.  Bryan,"  she  replied. 
"  My  name  is  Merriman  ;  Kathleen  Merri- 
man,"  and  she  looked  at  him  with  great 
dignity  but  with  no  relenting. 

"Well,  Miss  Merriman,  I  don't  suppose 
there  's  any  good  in  talking  about  it.  My 
being  awfully  sorry  does  n't  help  matters  any. 
I  don't  see  that  there  's  anything  to  be  done 
about  it,  but  to  have  the  carcass  carted  off 
your  land  as  soon  as  may  be." 

"  Carted  off  my  land  !  "  the  girl  cried,  with 
kindling  indignation.  "  You  need  not  trouble 
yourself  to  do  anything  of  the  kind."  Then, 
with  a  sudden  change  to  the  elegiac,  she  fixed 
her  mournful  gaze  upon  her  departed  friend 
and  said,  ' '  I  shall  bury  him  where  he  lies  !  ' ' 

In  this  softened  mood  she  seemed  less  for 
midable,  and  Sir  Bryan  so  far  plucked  up  his 
spirit  as  to  make  a  suggestion. 

"  Perhaps  I  could  help  you,"  he  said,     "  If 


46  peal;  anfc  prairie 


I  had  a  shovel,  or  something,  I  think  I  could 
dig  a  first-rate  grave. ' ' 

The  fair  mourner  looked  at  him  doubtfully, 
and  then  she  looked  at  his  namesake,  and 
apparently  the  poetic  justice  of  the  thing 
appealed  to  her. 

"  There  's  a  spade  over  at  the  house,"  she 
said,  k<and  I  don't  know  that  it  's  any  more 
than  fair  that  you  should  bury  him." 

Sir  Bryan's  spirits  rose  still  higher  at  the 
hope  of  partial  expiation  of  his  crime  ;  but  with 
his  rising  spirits  came  a  premonition  of  a  good 
healthy  appetite  which  would  soon  be  due, 
and  he  asked  meekly  :  "  Would  you  mind, 
then,  if  I  were  to  go  back  to  town  first,  to  get 
something  to  eat  ?  A  person  does  n't  dig  so 
well,  I  suppose,  on  an  empty  stomach." 

"  No,  you  'd  better  stay  and  get  your  dinner 
with  me.  It  will  take  you  pretty  much  all  day 
to  bury  Brian.  You  probably  never  buried  a 
bear  before,"  she  added,  as  patronizingly  as 
if  she  herself  had  been  a  professional  grave- 
digger,  "  and  you  don't  know  what  a  piece 
of  work  it  's  going  to  be." 

They  started  to  push  their  way  through  the 
scrub-oaks. 

' '  Shall  I  lead  your  horse  for  you  ?  "  Sir 
Bryan  asked. 


JBrfan  36oru  47 

''No,  thank  you.  Comrag  will  follow,  all 
right ; ' '  and  Comrag  did  follow,  so  close  upon 
their  heels,  that  Sir  Bryan  was  in  momentary 
expectation  of  being  trampled  upon. 

Comrag  was  an  unbeautiful  beast,  and  he 
permitted  himself  startling  liberties  ;  crowding 
himself  in  between  his  mistress  and  her  com 
panion,  helping  himself  without  ceremony  to  a 
bunch  of  asters  which  Sir  Bryan  had  in  his 
hand,  and  neighing  straight  into  the  young 
baronet's  ear  as  they  came  in  sight  of  the 
house. 

The  "house  "  was  a  mere  hut,  painted  red, 
entirely  dwarfed  by  an  ungainly  chimney  of 
rough  stone.  The  little  hut  was  built  against 
a  huge  boulder,  which  towered  above  the 
chimney  itself,  and  looked  as  though  it  had 
stood  there  since  the  foundation  of  the  earth. 
There  was  a  rustic  veranda  along  the  front  of 
this  diminutive  dwelling,  which  stood  on  a 
slight  eminence ;  and,  as  Sir  Bryan  stepped 
upon  the  veranda,  he  drew  a  long  breath  of 
amazement  and  delight.  Looking  down  over 
the  broad,  oak -clad  slope  of  the  mountain,  he 
beheld  the  vast  sea  of  the  prairie,  stretching 
for  leagues  upon  leagues  away  to  the  low 
horizon.  From  that  height  the  view  seemed 
limitless,  and  the  illusion  of  the  sea,  which 


4s  peafc  anD  iprairic 

always  hovers   over   the   prairies,    was    com 
plete. 

As  his  hostess  came  out  with  a  long-handled 
spade  in  her  hand,  he  cried,  ' '  That  is  the  most 
magnificent  thing  I  ever  saw  !  " 

She  did  not  answer  immediately,  but  stood 
leaning  upon  the  spade,  and  gazing  forth  as 
intently  as  if  it  had  been  to  her  too  a  revelation. 
Then  she  drew  a  long  breath  and  said,  in  a 
rapt  tone,  as  though  the  words  came  to  her  one 
by  one  :  "  Yes,  it  makes  you  feel  sometimes 
as  if  your  soul  would  get  away  from  you." 

They  stood  there  for  a  while,  watching  the 
cloud-shadows  swimming  upon  that  mystic  sea. 
The  smoke  of  an  express  train  on  the  horizon 
seemed  fairly  to  crawl,  so  great  was  the  dis 
tance. 

"  That  looks  like  the  smoke  of  a  steamer," 
Sir  Bryan  observed. 

"Then  you  think  it  seems  like  the  sea,  as 
everybody  else  does,"  she  answered.  "I 
never  saw  the  sea,  myself,  but  I  don't  believe 
it  can  be  finer  than  this. ' ' 

There  was  another  pause,  and  then,  with  a 
sudden  change  of  mood,  to  which  she  seemed 
subject,  the  rapt  worshipper  turned  her 
thoughts  to  practical  things,  saying  briskly  : 
"Here  's  your  spade,  Mr.  Bryan,  You  had 


JBrian  JSoru  49 

better  go  and  begin,  while  I  get  the  dinner. 
I  '11  fire  a  shot  when  it  's  ready. 

Sir  Bryan  obediently  took  the  spade. 

' '  How  am  I  to  find  my  way  to  the  bear  ?  ' ' 
he  asked. 

All  about  the  little  clearing  was  an  unbroken 
wilderness  of  scrub-oaks,  gorgeous  but  bewil 
dering. 

"Why,  you  can  just  follow  Comrag's 
tracks,"  she  said,  pointing  toward  the  spot 
where  the  hoof-prints  emerged  from  the 
brush.  "You  'd  better  leave  your  rifle 
here,"  she  added  with  some  asperity,  "You 
might  take  a  fancy  to  shoot  Comrag  if  he 
strayed  your  way. ' ' 

It  was  Sir  Bryan  Parkhurst's  first  attempt 
at  digging,  and  he  devoutly  hoped  it  might  be 
his  last.  He  thought  at  first  that  he  should 
never  get  his  spade  inserted  into  the  earth  at 
all,  so  numerous  and  exasperating  were  the 
hindrances  it  met  with.  The  hardest  and 
grittiest  of  stones,  tangled  roots,  and  solid 
-cakes  of  earth,  which  seemed  to  cohere  by 
means  of  some  subterranean  cement,  offered  a 
complicated  resistance,  which  was  not  what  he 
had  expected  of  Mother  Earth.  He  began  to 
fear  that  that  much  bepraised  dame  was  some 
thing  of  a  vixen  after  all, 
3 


5o  peafc  and  ipratrie 

The  other  Brian  lay,  meanwhile,  in  all  the 
dignity  and  solemnity  of  funeral  state,  await 
ing  burial.     As  Sir  Bryan  toiled  at  his  thank 
less  task  he  found  himself  becoming  strangely 
impressed.     There  seemed  to  be  a  weird  and 
awesome  significance  in  the  scene.     He  did  not 
know  why  it  was,  but  the  beetling  crags  above 
him,    the    consciousness   of    the    marvellous 
plains  below,    the  rhythmic  murmur  of  the 
wind   in   the   pine  trees    near    at   hand,    the 
curious   impenetrableness   of   the    old    earth, 
the  kingship  of  death  asserting  itself  in  the 
motionless  brute  which  he    had    killed,   but 
which  he  was  powerless  to  make  alive  again- 
all  these  weird  and  unaccustomed  influences 
seemed    to    be  clutching  at  his  imagination, 
taking  liberties  with  his  sense  of  identity.    He 
had  just  about  reached  the  conclusion  that  it 
was  all  a  mistake  about  his  being  anybody  in 
particular,  when  a  shot  rang  out  and  reminded 
him    that  he    was,    at  any  rate,   ravenously 
hungry. 

Five  minutes  later  he  had  washed  his  hands 
at  the  toy  sink  of  a  toy  kitchen  and  was  seated 
at  a  snowy  table  on  the  little  veranda,  partak 
ing  of  a  mutton  stew  which  seemed  a  dish  fit 
for  the  gods. 

It  had  been  something  of  a  shock  to  Sir 


Brian  JBoru  5i 

Bryan  to  find  places  laid  for  only  two.      He 
had   never  before   enjoyed   a   tete-a-tete  meal 
with  a  young  lady,  and  it  was  some  minutes 
before  he  could  rid  his  mind  of  the  impression 
that  an   irate  chaperon  was  about  to  appear 
from  behind  the  boulder,  or,  for  the  matter  of 
that,  from  the  depths  of  the  earth  itself.     His 
recent  experience  of  the  difficulty  of  penetra- 
ing  the  surface  of  the  earth  might  have  given 
him  a  sense  of  security  in  that  direction,  had 
he  not  cherished  an  exaggerated  opinion  of  the 
prowess  of  the  traditional  chaperon  in  thwart 
ing  the  pleasures  of  the  young.     The  comeli 
ness,   too,   of   his  hostess   led   him,  by  infer 
ence,  to  suppose  that  the  chaperon  in  question 
would  prove  to  be  of  a  peculiarly  vicious  and 
aggressive  type.      No  such  apparition  came, 
however,  to  disturb  his    satisfaction,   and   he 
gradually  came  to  believe  in  the  lawfulness  of 
the   situation.     His  face  may  have  betrayed 
something  of  the  questionings  which  were  rack 
ing  his  mind,  for  the  self-possessed  Kathleen, 
after  heaping  his  plate  with  stew  for  the  second 
time,    gave   him   an    elder-sisterly   look,    and 
said  :    "Mr.  Bryan,  you  are  such  a  very  dis 
creet  young  man,  that  I  believe  I  will  answer 
all  the  questions  you  are  dying  to  ask." 
Sir  Bryan  blushed,  as  he  always  hated  him- 


52  Ipeafc  anD  prafrfe 

self  for  doing,  and  the  nut-brown  maid  con 
tinued  : 

"  Yes,  I  live  here  all  alone.  I  am  taking  up 
a  claim.  No.  Nobody  molests  me,  and  I  get 
on  beautifully.  Sometimes  my  friends  come 
up  and  spend  a  few  days  with  me,  but  not 
often.  Comrag  and  I  do  the  marketing  once 
or  twice  a  week.  I  've  got  a  lovely  cool  cellar 
up  against  the  boulder  under  the  house." 

All  this  she  said  like  a  child  repeating  a 
lesson  she  has  learned  by  rote,  which  the 
teacher  wants  to  hear,  but  which  the  child 
finds  rather  uninteresting.  But  Sir  Bryan 
listened  as  if  it  had  been  the  most  exciting  tale 
he  had  ever  heard.  Thus  encouraged  she  pro 
ceeded  with  the  dry  statement  of  facts. 

"  I  've  only  got  to  stay  here  a  month  longer 
to  secure  the  claim.  I  've  got  three  hundred 
acres,  and  it  has  cost  me  just  three  hundred 
dollars  to  take  it  up  and  to  build  my  house  and 
Comrag' s  stall.  I  could  sell  out  to-morrow  for 
five  hundred  dollars,  but  I  don't  know  that  I 
would  sell  for  five  thousand.  Because  I  have 
such  a  beautiful  time  here.  I  feel  somehow  as 
if  I  had  struck  root." 

Sir  Bryan  knew  exactly  what  she  meant. 
In  spite  of  the  sailor  hat  and  shirt  waist,  she 
had  the  air  of  having  grown  up  among  the 


;JBoru  53 


rocks  and  glowing  oak  leaves.  He  said  noth 
ing,  but  his  attentive  attitude  asked  for  more. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  and  about  Brian  Boru,"  she  pro 
ceeded.  "I  found  him  last  June,  lying  up 
against  a  tree  with  his  leg  broken.  I  fed  him 
until  his  leg  was  mended,  and — and  " — with  a 
little  catch  in  her  breath — ' '  he  adored  me  !  See 
how  green  it  looks  off  to  the  south,"  she  has 
tened  to  add,  brushing  her  hand  across  her 
eyes. 

An  hour  after  dinner,  as  Sir  Bryan  still  la 
bored  at  that  contumacious  grave,  his  hostess 
came  and  seated  herself  upon  the  rock,  whence 
he,  in  the  first  flush  of  triumph,  had  surveyed 
the  dead  bear.  Sir  Bryan  could  not  but  feel 
flattered  by  this  kind  attention,  and,  being 
particularly  anxious  to  acquit  himself  credit 
ably  before  so  distinguished  a  spectator,  he 
naturally  became  more  and  more  awkward  at 
his  work. 

The  young  lady  considerately  divided  her 
attention  between  the  futile  efforts  of  the  ama 
teur  grave-digger  and  the  flippant  behavior  of 
a  black  and  white  magpie,  which  was  perched 
on  the  branch  of  a  dead  pine  near  by,  deris 
ively  jerking  its  long  tail.  She  wondered 
whether  the  magpie  perhaps  shared  her  aston 
ishment,  that  an  able-bodied  son  of  Erin  should 


54  jpeafc  anfc  fttaitte 

not  take  more  naturally  to  a  spade.  She  had 
supposed  that,  if  there  was  one  weapon  that 
an  Irishman  thoroughly  understood,  it  was 
that  which  her  new  acquaintance  was  strug 
gling  with.  She  cocked  her  head  on  one  side, 
with  something  of  a  magpie  air,  while  a  little 
crease  appeared  between  her  eyebrows. 

"  Why  don't  you  coax  it  a  little  more  ?  "  she 
suggested. 

Sir  Bryan  straightened  himself  up  and  stood 
there,  very  red  in  the  face,  trying  to  make  out 
whether  she  was  laughing  at  him.  Then  he 
laughed  at  himself  and  said,  "I  believe  you 
are  right.  I  was  getting  vindictive." 
After  that  he  seemed  to  get  on  better. 
They  buried  the  bear  just  as  the  heavy 
shadow  of  the  mountain  fell  across  their  feet. 
By  the  time  the  last  clod  of  earth  had  fallen  upon 
the  grave,  the  mountain  shadow  had  found  its 
way  a  hundred  miles  across  the  plains,  and  a 
narrow  golden  rim,  like  a  magic  circlet,  glim 
mered  on  the  horizon. 

"  Do  you  never  feel  afraid  ?  "  he  asked,  as 
they  walked  back  to  the  house. 

"No.  I  suppose  I  ought  to,  but  I  don't.  I 
was  a  little  disappointed  the  first  summer  I  was 
here,  because  nothing  happened.  It  seemed 
such  a  chance.  But  somehow  things  don't 


JBrfan  ^Soru  55 


happen  very  often.  Do  you  think  they  do  ? 
And  now  I '  m  a  good  deal  older  and  more 
experienced,  and  I  don't  expect  adventures. 
I'm  almost  twenty-five,"  she  declared,  with 
the  pardonable  pride  of  advancing  years. 

There  was  that  in  Sir  Bryan's  face  as  well  as 
in  his  character  which  had  always  invited  con 
fidence.  Consequently  it  did  not  seem  to  him 
in  the  least  degree  unnatural  that  this  charm 
ing  girl  should  tell  him  about  herself,  as  they 
walked  side  by  side  along  the  lonely  mountain 
slope,  in  the  fading  light. 

"I  forgot  to  tell  you,"  she  was  saying, 
"  that  I  am  a  trained  nurse.  I  came  out  West 
from  Iowa  with  a  sick  lady  who  died  very 
soon,  and  I  liked  the  mountains,  and  so  I 
stayed." 

"  And  you  Jve  given  up  nursing  ?  " 

' '  Oh,  no.  In  the  winter  season  I  am  always 
busy.  I  couldn't  afford  to  give  up  nursing, 
and  I  don't  believe  I  should  want  to.  It's 
lovely  to  help  people  when  they  are  suffering. 
You  get  almost  to  feel  as  though  they  belonged 
to  you,  and  I  haven't  anybody  belonging  to 
me." 

All  this  was  said  in  a  tone  of  soliloquy,  with 
out  a  trace  of  self-consciousness.  Miss  Kath 
leen  Merriman  seemed  to  find  it  quite  natural 


56  peal?  anfc  iprairfc 


that  she  should  stand  alone  and  unprotected  in 
the  world.  But  somehow  it  conflicted  with  all 
Sir  Bryan's  articles  of  faith.  Women  were  in 
tended  to  be  taken  care  of,  especially  young 
and  pretty  women.  A  feeling  of  genuine  ten 
derness  came  over  him  and  a  longing  to  pro 
tect  this  brave  young  creature.  There  was,  to 
be  sure,  something  about  the  way  her  head  was 
set  upon  her  shoulders,  that  made  him  doubt 
whether  it  would  be  easy  to  acquire  the  right 
to  take  care  of  her.  But  that  made  the  task 
all  the  more  tempting.  The  old  song  that 
every  Irishman  loves  was  in  his  thoughts. 
He  felt  an  impulse,  such  as  others  had  felt  in 
this  young  lady's  presence,  to  whisper :  ' l  Kath 
leen  Mavourneen. ' '  He  tried  to  fancy  the  con 
sequences  of  such  a  bold  step,  but  he  did  not 
venture  to  face  them.  He  therefore  contented 
himself  with  observing  that  the  air  had  grown 
very  chilly. 

They  had  reached  the  little  veranda  once 
more,  and  Sir  Bryan  was  not  invited  to  tarry. 
The  girl  stood  there  in  the  deepening  twilight, 
a  step  above  him,  leaning  upon  the  spade  he 
had  delivered  up,  and  looking  out  across  the 
shadowy  plains,  and  Sir  Bryan  could  think  of 
no  possible  excuse  for  staying  any  longer.  As 
he  flung  his  rifle  over  his  shoulder  and  made  a 


$rian  JBoru  57 


motion  to  go,  she  held  out  her  hand,  with  a 
sudden  friendly  impulse,  and  said:  "I  was 
very  unjust  this  morning.  You  could  n't  pos 
sibly  have  known,  and  it  was  very  kind  of  you 
to  bury  him. ' ' 

Sir  Bryan  murmured  a  remorseful  word  or 
two,  and  then  he  started  down  the  mountain 
side. 

"  Good-bye,"  he  cried,  across  the  scrub-oaks 
that  were  growing  dark  and  indistinct. 

"  Good-bye,  Mr.  Bryan,"  came  the  answer, 
sounding  shrill  and  near  through  the  interven 
ing  distance. 

As  he  looked  back,  a  huge,  ungainly  form 
thrust  itself  before  the  slender  figure.  A  great 
dark  head  stood  out  against  the  light  shirt 
waist  the  girl  wore,  and  he  perceived  that 
Comrag  had  strolled  from  his  stall  for  a  friendly 
good-night. 

' '  The  only  friend  she  has  left  now, ' '  Sir 
Bryan  reflected  in  sorrowful  compunction. 

He  strode  down  the  mountain  at  a  good 
pace.  Now  and  then  a  startled  rabbit  crossed 
his  path,  and  once  his  imagination  turned  a 
scrub-oak  into  the  semblance  of  a  bear.  But 
he  gave  no  heed  to  these  apparitions.  His 
sportsman's  instinct  had  suffered  a  check. 

By  the  time  Sir  Bryan  had  reached  the  out- 


5g  peafc  ant)  prairie 

skirts  of  the  town,  the  stars  were  out.  He 
looked  up  at  the  great  mountain  giant  that 
closed  the  range  at  the  south.  Wrapped  in 
darkness  and  in  silence  it  stood  against  the 
starry  sky.  He  tried  to  imagine  that  he  could 
perceive  a  twinkling  light  from  the  little  cabin, 
but  none  was  visible.  The  enchantment  of 
the  mountain-side  had  already  withdrawn  it 
self  into  impregnable  shadow. 

"Jove!"  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  turned 
into  the  prosaic  town.  "  If  I  were  an  Ameri 
can,  or  something  of  that  sort,  I  'd  go  up  there 


again  " 


'Being,  however,  a  young  Irish  baronet,  as 
shy  of  entanglements  with  his  own  kind  as  he 
was  eager  for  encounters  with  wild  beasts,  he 
very  wisely  went  his  way  the  next  morning, 
and  up  to  this  time  has  never  beheld  mountain 
or  maiden  again. 

Over  the  grave  which  Sir  Bryan  dug,  there 
stands  to-day  a  stout  pine  board,  upon  which 
may  be  read  the  following  legend  : 

"  Here  lies  the  body  of 

Brian  Boru, 

shot  through  the  heart 

and  subsequently  buried 

by  an  agreeable  Paddy 

of  the  same  name''' 


50 


Every  year,  "however,  the  inscription  be 
comes  somewhat  less  legible  and  it  is  to  be 
feared  that  all  record  of  the  poor  bear  will 
soon  be  lost. 


III. 

JAKK  STANWOOD'S  GAI,. 

JACOB  STAN  WOOD  was  not  the  only 
college-bred  man,  stranded  more  or  less 
like  a  disabled  hull,  upon  the  prairie  sea  of 
Colorado.  Within  the  radius  of  a  hundred 
miles — no  great  distance  as  prairie  miles  are 
reckoned, — there  were  known  to  be  some  half 
dozen  of  the  fraternity,  putting  their  superior 
equipment  to  the  test,  opposing  trained  minds 
and  muscles  to  the  stubborn  resistance  of  an 
ungenial  nature.  The  varying  result  of  the 
struggle  in  different  cases  would  seem  to  indi 
cate  that  it  is  moral  fibre  which  nature  respects 
and  submits  to,  rather  than  any  acquired  ad 
vantages. 

In  Jacob  Stan  wood's  case  there  was  no 
such  test  applied,  for  there  was  absolutely  no 
struggle.  He  would  have  found  it  much 
easier  to  send  a  bullet  through  his  brain  than 
to  put  that  organ  to  any  violent  exertion.  Up 
60 


StanwooD's  (Sal  61 

to  this  time,  the  alternative  had  not  been  pre 
sented  to  him,  but  he  sometimes  fancied  that 
he  saw  it  coming.  At  such  times  he  would 
philosophize  over  himself  and  fate,  until  he 
had  exhausted  those  two  great  subjects,  and 
then,  in  a  quiet  and  gentlemanly  way,  he 
would  drown  speculation  in  the  traditional 
dram.  He  never  drank  anything  but  "Old 
Rye,"  and  he  flattered  himself  that  he  did  so 
only  when  he  pleased.  If  he  somewhat  mis 
apprehended  his  relation  with  old  rye,  it  was 
perhaps  no  wonder  ;  for  in  his  semi-occasional 
encounters  with  this  gentlemanly  intoxicant, 
his  only  witnesses  and  commentators  were  his 
collie  dogs,  and  they  never  ventured  upon  an 
opinion  in  the  matter. 

When  he  was  in  a  good  mood  Stanwood 
would  sit  in  his  doorway  of  a  summer  even 
ing,  with  the  collies  at  his  feet,  and  commune 
with  nature  as  amicably  as  if  she  had  been  his 
best  friend.  Between  his  cabin  door  and  "  the 
range  "  stretched  twenty  miles  of  arid  prairie  ; 
but  when  the  sun  was  in  the  west,  the  wide 
expanse  took  on  all  the  mystic  hues  that  the 
Orientals  love  and  seek  to  imitate,  and  he 
gazed  across  it  to  the  towering  peaks  with  a 
sense  of  ownership  which  no  paternal  acres, 
no  velvet  lawns,  nor  stately  trees,  could  have 


62  ipeafc  anfc  pratrte 

awakened  in  him.  A  row  of  telegraph-poles, 
which  had  doubtless  once  been  trees,  straggled 
along  the  line  of  the  railroad,  a  few  miles  to 
the  north,  and  his  own  windmill  indicated  the 
presence  of  water  underground.  But  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach  not  a  living  tree  could  be 
seen,  not  a  glimmer  of  a  lake  or  rivulet ;  only 
the  palpitating  plain  and  the  soaring  peaks, 
and  at  his  feet  the  cluster  of  faithful  friends, 
gazing,  from  time  to  time,  with  rapt  devotion 
into  his  face. 

On  these  meditative  evenings  Stanwood 
found  a  leisurely  companionship  in  remi 
niscences  of  better  days ;  reminiscences  more 
varied  and  brilliant  than  most  men  have  for 
solace.  But  it  was  part  of  his  philosophy 
never  to  dwell  on  painful  contrasts.  Even 
in  the  memory  of  his  wife,  whom  he  had  adored 
and  lost,  even  into  that  memory  he  allowed  no 
poignant  element  to  enter.  He  thought  of 
her  strong  and  gay  and  happy,  making  a  joy 
of  life.  He  never  permitted  the  recollection 
of  her  illness  and  death,  nor  of  his  own  grief, 
to  intrude  itself.  Indeed  he  had  succeeded  in 
reality,  as  well  as  in  retrospect,  in  evading 
his  grief.  There  had  been  a  little  daughter 
of  six,  who  had  formed  part  of  the  painful 
association  which  his  temperament  rebelled 


Stanvvoo&'s  (3al  63 


against.  Foregoing,  in  her  favor,  the  life- 
interest  in  her  mother's  estate  to  which  he 
was  entitled,  he  had  placed  the  child  under 
the  guardianship  of  an  uncle  whom  he  equally 
disliked  and  trusted,  and,  having  thus  disposed 
of  his  last  responsibility,  he  had  gone  forth 
into  what  proved  to  be  the  very  diverting 
world  of  Europe.  The  havoc  which  some  ten 
years'  sojourn  wrought  in  his  very  considera 
ble  fortune  would  force  one  to  the  conclusion 
that  he  had  amused  himself  with  gambling  ; 
but  whether  in  stocks,  or  at  faro  tables,  or  in 
some  more  subtle  wise,  was  known  only  to 
himself. 

He  had  returned  to  his  own  country  by  way 
of  Japan  and  San  Francisco,  and  then  he  had 
set  his  face  to  the  East,  with  an  idea  that  he 
must  repair  his  shattered  fortunes.  When 
once  the  Rocky  Mountains  were  crossed,  how 
ever,  and  no  longer  stood  as  a  bulwark  be 
tween  him  and  unpleasant  realities,  he  suddenly 
concluded  to  go  no  farther.  It  struck  him 
that  he  was  hardly  prepared  for  the  hand-to- 
hand  struggle  with  fortune  which  he  had  sup 
posed  himself  destined  to  ;  it  would  be  more 
in  his  line  to  take  up  a  claim  and  live  there  as 
master,  though  it  were  only  master  of  a  desert. 

The  little  daughter,  with  whom  he  kept  up 


64  peafe  anfc  prairie 

a  desultory  correspondence,  had  expressed  her 
regret  in  a  letter  written  in  the  stiff,  carefully 
worded  style  of  "  sweet  sixteen,"  and  he  had 
never  guessed  the  passion  of  disappointment 
which  the  prim  little  letter  concealed. 

This  had  happened  five  years  ago.  He  had 
taken  up  his  claim  successfully,  but  there  suc 
cess  ended.  After  four  years  or  more  of  rather 
futile  "ranching,"  he  sold  most  of  his  stock  to 
his  men,  who  promptly  departed  with  it,  and 
proceeded  to  locate  a  claim  a  few  miles  distant. 
The  incident  amused  him  as  illustrating  the 
dignity  of  labor,  and  kindred  philosophical 
theories  which  the  present  age  seems  invented 
to  establish. 

One  horse,  a  couple  of  cows,  and  his  six 
collie  dogs  of  assorted  ages  and  sizes,  he  still 
retained,  and  with  their  assistance  he  was 
rapidly  making  away  with  the  few  hundreds 
accruing  from  the  sale  of  his  stock  and  farm 
ing  implements.  He  had  placed  the  money 
in  the  bank  at  Cameron  City,  a  small  railroad- 
station  in  a  hollow  five  miles  north  of  him, 
and  it  was  when  his  eyes  fell  upon  the  rapidly 
diminishing  monthly  balance  that  he  thought 
he  saw  coming  that  unpleasant  alternative  of 
which  mention  has  been  made. 

He  found  no  little  entertainment,  after  the 


Stanwoofc's  <Sal  65 


departure  of  his  men,  in  converting  their  late 
sleeping-apartment  into  what  he  was  pleased 
to  call  a  "museum."  To  this  end  nothing 
further  was  necessary,  after  removing  all  traces 
of  their  late  occupancy,  than  that  two  old  sole- 
leather  trunks  should  render  up  their  contents, 
consisting  of  half- forgotten  souvenirs  of  travel. 
The  change  wras  magic.  Unmounted  photo 
graphs  appeared  upon  the  w7all,  an  ivory  Faust 
and  Gretchen  from  Nuremberg  stood,  self-cen 
tred  and  unobservant,  upon  the  chimney-shelf 
among  trophies  from  Turkey,  and  Japan,  Spain, 
and  Norway.  A  gorgeous  kimono  served  as 
curtain  at  the  south  window,  a  Persian  altar- 
cloth  at  the  west  ;  and  through  the  west 
window,  the  great  Peak  gazed  with  stolid 
indifference  upon  all  that  splendor,  while  the 
generous  Colorado  sunshine  poured  itself  in 
at  the  south  in  unstinted  measure,  just  as 
lavishly  as  if  its  one  mission  had  been  to 
illuminate  the  already  gorgeous  display. 

And  then,  when  all  was  done,  Stanwood 
found  to  his  surprise,  that  he  still  liked  best 
to  sit  at  his  cabin-door,  and  watch  the  play 
of  light  on  peak  and  prairie. 

Late  one  afternoon,  as  he  sat  in  the  door 
way,  at  peace  with  himself,  and  in  agreeable 
harmony  with  the  world  as  he  beheld  it,  his 
5 


66  peak  anfc  prairie 


eye  was  caught  by  an  indistinguishable  object 
moving  across  the  plain  from  the  direction  of 
Cameron  City.  He  regarded  it  as  he  might 
have  regarded  the  progress  of  a  coyote  or 
prairie-dog,  till  it  stopped  at  his  own  gate, 
half  a  mile  to  the  northward.  A  vague  feel 
ing  of  dissatisfaction  came  over  him  at  the 
sight,  but  he  did  not  disturb  himself,  nor 
make  any  remarks  to  the  dogs  on  the  subject. 
They  however  soon  pricked  up  their  ears,  and 
sprang  to  their  feet,  excited  and  pleased.  They 
were  hospitable  souls  and  welcomed  the  diver 
sion  of  a  visitor.  As  the  wagon  drew  nearer, 
Stanwood  observed  that  there  was  a  woman 
sitting  beside  the  driver  ;  whereupon  he  re 
paired  to  his  own  room  to  give  himself  a 
hasty  polish.  The  dogs  began  to  bark  in  a 
friendly  manner,  and,  under  cover  of  their 
noise,  the  wagon  came  up  and  stopped  before 
the  door.  Suddenly  a  rap  resounded,  and  in 
acknowledgment  of  this  unusual  ceremony, 
the  master  of  the  house  went  so  far  as  to  pull 
on  his  best  coat  before  stepping  out  into  the 
main  room.  There  in  the  doorway,  cutting 
off  the  view  of  the  Peak,  stood  a  tall,  well- 
dressed  young  woman,  patting  one  of  the  dogs, 
while  the  others  leaped,  barking,  about  her. 
Somewhat  mystified  by  this  apparition,  Stan- 


5afce  StanvvooD's  (Sal  67 

wood  approached,  and  said  ;  "  Good-evening, 
madam. ' ' 

"  Good-evening,"  came  the  reply,  in  a  rather 
agitated  voice.  "  I  'm  Elizabeth." 

4 '  The  deuce  you  are  ! ' ' 

Struck,  not  by  the  un fatherly,  but  by  the 
ungentlemanly  nature  of  his  response,  Stan- 
wood  promptly  gathered  himself  together,  to 
meet  the  situation. 

' '  Pray  come  in  and  take  a  seat, ' '  he  said  ; 
and  then,  falling  into  the  prairie  speech : 
' '  Where  are  you  stopping  ? ' ' 

The  tall  young  lady,  who  had  entered,  but 
who  had  not  taken  the  proffered  seat,  looked 
at  him  a  moment,  and  then  she  came  toward 
him  with  a  swift,  impulsive  movement,  and 
said  :  "  Why,  papa,  I  don't  believe  you  know 
me  !  I'm  Elizabeth  !  " 

"Yes,  yes,  oh,  yes!  I  understand.  But  I 
thought  perhaps  you  were  paying  a  visit  some 
where — some  school  friend,  you  know,  or— 
or — yes — some  school  friend." 

The  girl  was  looking  at  him  half  bewildered, 
half  solicitous.  It  was  not  the  reception  she 
had  anticipated  at  the  end  of  her  two-thou 
sand-mile  journey.  But  then,  this  was  not 
the  man  she  had  expected  to  see — this  gaunt, 
ill-clad  figure,  with  the  worn,  hollow-eyed  face, 


68  jpeafc  anfc  prairie 

and  the  gray  hair.  Why,  her  father  was  only 
fifty  years  old,  yet  the  lines  she  saw  were  lines 
of  age  and  suffering.  Suddenly  all  her  feeling 
of  perplexity  and  chagrin  and  wounded  pride 
was  merged  in  a  profound  tenderness.  She 
drew  nearer,  extending  both  her  hands,  placed 
them  gently  upon  his  shoulders  and  said  : 
' '  Will  you  please  to  give  me  a  kiss  ? ' ' 

Stanwood,  much  abashed,  bent  his  head 
toward  the  blooming  young  face,  and  imprinted 
a  perfunctory  kiss  upon  the  waiting  lips.  This 
unaccustomed  exercise  completed  his  discom 
fiture.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  felt 
himself  unequal  to  a  social  emergency. 

A  curious  sensation  went  over  Klizabeth. 
Somehow  she  felt  as  if  she  had  been  kissed  by 
a  total  stranger.  She  drew  back  and  picked 
up  her  small  belongings.  For  a  moment  Stan- 
wood  thought  she  was  going. 

<(  Don't  you  get  your  mail  out  here  any 
more  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Not  very  regularly,"  he  replied,  guiltily 
conscious  of  possessing  two  or  three  illegible 
letters  from  his  daughter  which  he  had  not  yet 
had  the  enterprise  to  decipher. 

' '  Then  you  did  not  expect  me  ? ' ' 

"  Well,  no,  I  can't  say  I  did.  But  "—  with 
a  praiseworthy  if  not  altogether  successful 


Stanwoofc's  <3al  69 


effort— "  I   am    very    glad    to    see    you,    my 
dear." 

The  first  half  of  this  speech  was  so  much 
more  convincing  than  the  last,  that  the  girl 
felt  an  unpleasant  stricture  about  her  throat, 
and  knew  herself  to  be  on  the  verge  of  tears. 

"  I  could  go  back,"  she  said,  with  a  pathetic 
little  air  of  dignity.  ' '  Perhaps  you  would  not 
have  any  place  to  put  me  if  I  should  stay." 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  I  can  put  you  in  the  museum"  - 
and  he  looked  at  her  with  the  first  glimmer  of 
appreciation,  feeling  that  she  would  be  a  cred 
itable  addition  to  his  collection  of  curiosities. 

Elizabeth  met  his  look  with  one  of  quick 
comprehension,  and  then  she  broke  into  a 
laugh  which  saved  the  day.  It  was  a  pleasant 
laugh  in  itself,  and  furthermore,  if  she  had 
not  laughed  just  at  that  juncture  she  would 
surely  have  disgraced  herself  forever  by  a 
burst  of  tears. 

Cy  Willows,  meanwhile,  believing  that  ''the 
gal  and  her  pa  ' '  would  rather  not  be  observed 
at  their  first  meeting,  had  discreetly  busied 
himself  with  the  two  neat  trunks  which  his 
passenger  had  brought. 

"Hullo,  Jake  !  "  he  remarked,  as  the  ranch 
man  appeared  at  the  door;  "this  is  a  great 
day  for  you,  ain't  it  ?  " 


70  ifreak  anfc  jfrrafrie 


The  two  men  took  hold  of  one  of  the  trunks 
together,  and  carried  it  into  the  museum. 
When  the  door  opened,  Willows  almost 
dropped  his  end  from  sheer  amazement.  He 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  staring  from 
Venus  to  altar-cloth,  from  altar-cloth  to  censer. 

' '  Gosh  !  "  he  remarked  at  last.  ' '  Your 
gal 's  struck  it  rich  !  " 

The  "gal"  took  it  more  quietly.  To  her, 
the  master  of  this  fine  apartment  was  not  Jake 
Stanwood,  the  needy  ranchman,  but  Jacob 
Stanwood,  Esq.,  gentleman  and  scholar,  to  the 
manor  born.  She  stepped  to  the  window,  and 
looked  out  across  the  shimmering  plain  to  the 
rugged  peaks  and  the  warm  blue  slopes  of 
"  the  range,"  and  a  sigh  of  admiration  escaped 
her. 

"  Oh,  papa  !  "  she  cried,  "  how  beautiful  it 
is!  " 

"And  I  '11  be  durned  if  't  wa'  n't  the  moun 
tings  the  gal  was  looking  at  all  the  time  ! ' '  Cy 
Willows  declared,  when  reporting  upon  the 
astonishing  situation  at  the  ranch. 

Stanwood  himself  was  somewhat  impressed 
by  the  girl's  attitude.  The  museum  had  come 
to  seem  to  his  long  unaccustomed  mind  a  very 
splendid  apartment  indeed.  When,  a  few  min 
utes  later,  Elizabeth  joined  him  in  the  rudely 


Stanwoo&'s  <3al  71 


furnished  living-room  of  the  cabin,  he  felt 
something  very  like  chagrin  at  her  first  obser 
vation. 

"Oh,  papa  !  "  she  cried.  "  I  'm  so  glad  the 
rest  of  it  is  a  real  ranch  house  !  I  've  always 
wanted  to  see  just  how  a  real  ranchman 
lives!" 

He  thought  ruefully  that  she  would  soon 
learn,  to  her  cost,  how  a  very  poverty-stricken 
ranchman  lived.  His  examination  of  the 
larder  had  not  been  encouraging. 

"  I  am  afraid  we  shall  have  rather  poor 
pickings  for  supper,  my  dear, ' '  he  said  apolo 
getically.  He  called  her  ' '  my  dear  ' '  from  the 
first  ;  it  seemed  more  non-committal  and  im 
personal  than  the  use  of  her  name.  He  had 
not  called  a  young  lady  by  her  first  name  for 
fifteen  years. 

"  I  have  my  dinner  in  the  middle  of  the 
day,"  he  went  on,  "and  I  seem  to  have  run 
short  of  provisions  this  evening. ' ' 

"I  suppose  you  have  a  man-cook,"  she 
remarked,  quite  ignoring  his  apology. 

"Yes,"  he  replied  grimly.  :<  I  have  the 
honor  to  fill  that  office  myself. ' ' 

"  Why  ;  is  n't  there  anybody  else  about  the 
place?" 

"  No.      I  'm  '  out  of  help  '  just  now,  as  old 


72  ipeafc  anfc  prairie 


Madam  Gallup  used  to  say.  I  don't  suppose 
you  remember  old  Madam  Gallup." 

' '  Oh,  yes,  I  do  !  Mama  used  to  have  her 
to  dinner  every  Sunday.  She  looked  like  a 
duchess,  but  when  she  died  people  said  she 
died  of  starvation.  That  was  the  year  after 
you  went  away,"  she  added  thoughtfully. 

It  seemed  very  odd  to  hear  this  tall  young 
woman  say  "  mama,"  and  to  realize  that  it  was 
that  other  Elizabeth  that  she  was  laying  claim 
to.  Why,  the  girl  seemed  almost  as  much  of 
a  woman  as  her  mother.  Fifteen  years  !  A 
long  time  to  be  sure.  He  ought  to  have 
known  better  than  to  have  slipped  into  remi 
niscences  at  the  very  outset.  Uncomfortable 
things,  always — uncomfortable  things  ! 

He  would  not  let  her  help  him  get  the  sup 
per,  and  with  a  subtle  perception  of  the  irrita 
tion  which  he  was  at  such  pains  to  conceal, 
she  forbore  to  press  the  point,  and  went,  in 
stead,  and  sat  in  the  doorway,  looking  dreamily 
across  the  prairie. 

Stanwood  noted  her  choice  of  a  seat,  with  a 
curious  mixture  of  jealousy  and  satisfaction. 
He  should  be  obliged  either  to  give  up  his  seat, 
or  to  share  it  for  awhile  ;  but  then  it  was  grat 
ifying  to  know  that  the  girl  had  a  heart  for 
that  view. 


Stanwoofc's  Gal  73 


And  the  girl  sat  there  wondering  vaguely 
why  she  was  not  homesick.  Everything  had 
been  different  from  her  anticipations.  No  one 
to  meet  her  at  Springtown  ;  no  letter,  no  mes 
sage  at  the  hotel.  She  had  had  some  difficulty  in 
learning  how  to  reach  Cameron  City,  and  when, 
at  last,  she  had  found  herself  in  the  forlorn  lit 
tle  prairie  train,  steaming  eastward  across  the 
strange  yellow  expanse,  unbroken  by  the  small 
est  landmark,  she  had  been  assailed  by  strange 
doubts  and  questionings.  At  Cameron  City, 
again,  no  longed-for,  familiar  face  had  appeared 
among  the  loungers  at  the  station,  and  the  sit 
uation  and  her  part  in  it  seemed  most  uncom 
fortable.  When,  however,  she  had  made 
known  her  identity,  and  word  was  passed  that 
this  was  "Jake  Stanwood's  gal,"  there  were 
prompt  offers  of  help,  and  she  had  soon  secured 
the  services  of  Cy  Willows  and  his  "  team." 

As  she  sat  in  the  doorway,  watching  the 
glowing  light,  the  sun  dropped  behind  the 
Peak.  She  remembered  how  Cy  had  said  he 
"  had  n't  never  heard  JakeStanwood  speak  of 
havin'  a  gal  of  his  own."  The  shadow  of  the 
great  mountain  had  fallen  upon  the  plain,  and 
a  chill,  half  imaginary,  half  real,  possessed 
itself  of  her.  Was  she  homesick  after  all? 
She  stood  up  and  stepped  out  upon  the  prairie, 


74  peak  an£>  prairie 


which  had  never  yielded  an  inch  of  space  be 
fore  the  cabin  door.  Off  to  the  southward  was 
a  field  of  half-grown  alfalfa  that  had  taken  on 
a  weird,  uncanny  green  in  the  first  sunless 
light.  She  looked  across  to  the  remote  prairie, 
and  there,  on  the  far  horizon,  the  sunlight 
still  shone,  a  golden  circlet.  No.  She  was 
not  homesick  ;  anything  but  that  !  She  had 
been  homesick  almost  ever  since  she  could 
remember,  but  now  she  was  in  her  father's 
house  and  everything  must  be  well. 

When  Stanwood  came  to  look  for  her  he 
found  her  surrounded  by  the  assiduous  collies, 
examining  with  much  interest  the  tall,  un 
gainly  windmill,  with  its  broad  wooden  flaps. 

On  the  whole,  their  first  evening  together 
was  a  pleasant  one.  Stanwood  listened  with 
amused  appreciation  to  the  account  of  her 
journey.  She  would  be  a  credit  to  his  name, 
he  thought,  out  there  in  the  old  familiar  world 
which  he  should  never  see  again. 

He  had  relinquished  to  her  the  seat  on  the 
door-step,  and  himself  sat  on  a  saw-horse  out 
side  the  door,  where  the  lamp-light  struck  his 
face.  Her  head  and  figure  presented  them 
selves  to  him  as  a  silhouette,  and  somehow  that 
suited  him  better  than  to  see  her  features  dis 
tinctly  ;  it  seemed  to  keep  their  relation  back 


5afce  stanwoofc's  <3al  75 


where  it  had  always  been,  a  sort  of  impersonal 
outline. 

Elizabeth,  for  her  part,  thought  that,  for  all 
his  shabby  clothes  and  thin,  sunburnt  face, 
her  father  was  more  manifestly  a  gentleman 
than  any  man  she  had  ever  seen. 

She  learned  several  things  in  the  course  of 
that  conversation.  She  found  that  when  she 
touched  upon  her  reasons  for  coming  to  him, 
her  feeling  that  they  were  only  two  and  that 
they  ought  to  be  together,  his  eyes  wandered 
and  he  looked  bored  ;  when  she  spoke  of  her 
mother  he  seemed  uncomfortable. 

Was  she  like  her  mother  ?  No,  he  said,  she 
was  not  in  the  least  like  her  mother  ;  he  did 
not  see  that  she  took  after  anybody  in  particu 
lar.  Then,  as  if  to  escape  the  subject,  was  her 
Uncle  Nicholas  as  rabid  a  teetotaller  as  ever  ? 

He  liked  best  to  hear  about  her  school  days 
and  of  the  gay  doings  of  the  past  year,  her 
first  year  of  "  society." 

''And  you  don't  like  society?"  he  asked 
at  last,  with  a  quizzical  glance  at  her  pretty 
profile.  She  had  turned  her  eyes  from  the  con 
templation  of  his  face,  and  seemed  to  be  conjur 
ing  up  interesting  visions  out  of  the  darkness. 

"Yes,  I  do  !  "  she  said  with  decision. 

"  You  won't  get  much  society  out  here,"   he 


76  fceafc  anfc  prairie 


remarked,  and  his  spirits  rose  again.  Of 
course  she  would  be  bored  to  death  without  it. 

"I  like  some  things  better  than  society," 
she  replied. 

' '  For  instance  ?  ' ' 

She  turned  her  face  full  upon  him,  and 
boldly  said,  ''You." 

' '  The  deuce  you  do  !  "  he  cried,  and  was  in 
stantly  conscious  that  it  was  the  second  time 
that  he  had  forgotten  himself. 

A  little  crinkle  appeared  in  the  silhouette  of 
a  cheek,  and  she  said,  "  I  do  like  to  hear  you 
say'  the  deuce.'  I  don't  believe  Uncle  Nich 
olas  ever  said  '  the  deuce  '  in  his  life. ' ' 

"Nick  was  always  a  bore,"  Stanwood  re 
joined,  more  pleased  with  the  implied  dispar 
agement  of  his  pet  aversion  than  with  the  very 
out-spoken  compliment  to  himself. 

' '  I  think  Uncle  Nicholas  has  done  his  duty 
by  me,"  Elizabeth  remarked  demurely,  ''but 
I  am  glad  he  has  got  through.  I  came  of  age 
last  Monday,  the  day  I  started  for  Colorado. " 

' '  When  did  you  decide  to  come  ?  ' ' 

' '  About  five  years  ago.  I  always  meant  to 
start  on  the  yth  of  June  of  this  year. ' ' 

"You  make  your  plans  a  long  way  ahead. 
What  is  the  next  step  on  the  program  ? ' ' 

"  I  have  n't  the  least  idea." 


stanwooD's  (5al  77 

"  For  such  a  very  decided  young  lady,  is  n't 
that  rather  odd  ?  ' ' 

"  There  are  some  things  one  can't  decide  all 
by  one' s  self. ' ' 

"Such  as?" 

"The  next  step." 

' '  Perhaps  you  will  find  it  easier  after  a  week 
or  two  of  ranching." 

"You  don't  think  I  am  going  to  like  ranch 
ing  ?  " 

"Hardly." 

"  Don't  you  like  it  ?  " 

"Oh,  I  'm  an  old  man,  with  my  life  behind 
me." 

The  lamplight  on  his  face  was  stronger  than 
he  was  aware  ;  Elizabeth  saw  a  good  deal  in  it 
which  he  was  not  in  the  habit  of  displaying  to 
his  fellow-creatures.  She  stooped,  and  patted 
one  of  the  collies,  and  told  him  she  thought 
she  really  ought  to  go  to  bed  ;  upon  which 
Stan  wood  rose  with  alacrity,  and  conducted  her 
to  the  museum,  which  had  been  turned  into  a 
very  habitable  sleeping-room. 

Having  closed  the  door  upon  his  latest  "  cu 
riosity,"  Stanwood  proceeded  to  perform  a  sol 
emn  rite  in  the  light  of  the  stars.  He  took  his 
demijohn  of  old  rye,  and,  followed  by  the  six 
collies,  he  carried  it  out  a  few  rods  back  of  the 


78  peafc  anfc  ipcatric 

cabin,  where  he  gravely  emptied  its  contents 
upon  the  sandy  soil.  At  the  first  remonstrat 
ing  gulp  of  the  demijohn,  which  seemed  to  be 
doing  its  best  to  arrest  the  flow,  a  strong  pene 
trating  aroma  assailed  his  nostrils,  but  he  never 
flinched.  Great  as  his  confidence  was  in  his 
own  supremacy  in  his  peculiarly  intimate  rela 
tions  with  old  rye,  he  did  not  wish  to  ' '  take 
any  chances  ' '  with  himself. 

The  dogs  stood  around  in  an  admiring  circle, 
and  sniffed  perplexedly  at  the  strange  libation 
which  was  clearly  not  intended  for  their  kind. 
Did  they  realize  that  it  was  poured  before  the 
altar  of  parental  devotion  ?  They  stood  there 
wagging  their  tails  with  great  vigor,  and  never 
taking  their  eyes  off  their  master's  counte 
nance.  Perhaps  they  appreciated  the  odd,  half- 
deprecating,  half-satirical  expression  of  the 
face  they  knew  so  well.  It  would  have  been 
a  pity  if  somebody  had  not  done  so.  It  is  to 
be  feared,  however,  that  the  remark  with 
which  Stanwood  finally  turned  away  from  the 
odorous  pool  and  walked  toward  the  house 
was  beyond  the  comprehension  of  the  canine 
intellect.  To  himself,  at  least,  the  remorseful 
pang  was  very  real  with  which  he  said,  half 
aloud,  "  Pity  to  waste  good  liquor  like  that  ! 
Some  poor  wretch  might  have  enjoyed  it." 


Stanwoofc's  <3al  79 

The  morning  following  his  visitor's  arrival, 
the  two  drove  together  in  the  rattling  old 
ranch  wagon  to  Cameron  City.  Elizabeth  was 
enchanted  with  the  ingenious  introduction  of 
odd  bits  of  rope  into  the  harness,  by  means 
of  which  the  whole  establishment  was  kept  from 
falling  apart.  She  thought  the  gait  of  the 
lazy  old  nag  the  most  amusing  exhibition  pos 
sible,  and  as  for  the  erratic  jolts  and  groans 
of  the  wagon,  it  struck  her  that  this  was  a 
new  form  of  exercise,  the  pleasurable  excite 
ment  and  unexpectedness  of  which  surpassed 
all  former  experiences.  At  Cameron  City  she 
made  purchase  of  a  saddle-horse,  a  very  well- 
made  bronco  with  dramatic  possibilities  in  his 
eye. 

"I  don't  know  where  you  will  get  a  side 
saddle,"  Stanwood  had  demurred  when  the 
purchase  was  first  proposed. 

"  A  side-saddle?     I  have  it  in  my  trunk." 

"You  don't  say  so  !  I  should  think  it  would 
jam  your  bonnets." 

"  Oh,  I  packed  it  with  my  ranch  outfit." 

So  they  jogged  and  rattled  over  to  Cameron 
City,  where  Elizabeth  had  made  the  acquisi 
tion,  not  only  of  a  saddle-horse,  but  of  two  or 
three  most  interesting  new  acquaintances. 

"I  do  like  the  people  so  much,  papa,"  she 


80  ipeafc  anD  prairie 

declared  as  they  drove  out  of  town,  having  left 
the  new  horse  to  be  shod. 

"You  don't  mind  their  calling  you  'Jake 
Stan  wood's  gal'?" 

"  No,  indeed  !  I  think  it 's  perfectly  lovely  !  " 

"  It  cannot  but  be  gratifying  to  me,"  Stan- 
wood  remarked,  in  the  half-satirical  tone  he 
found  easiest  in  conversation  with  this  near 
relative ;  "in  fact,  I  may  say  it  is  gratifying 
to  me,  to  find  that  the  impression  is  mutu 
ally  favorable.  Halstead,  the  ruffianly  looking 
sheep-raiser  who  called  you  '  Madam, '  con 
fided  to  me  that  you  were  the  first  woman  he 
had  ever  met  who  knew  the  difference  between 
a  horse  and  a  cow  ;  and  Simmons,  the  light- 
haired  man  who  looks  like  a  deacon,  but  who 
is  probably  the  worst  thief  in  four  counties, 
told  me  I  ought  to  be  proud  of  '  that  gal ' !  " 

"Oh,  papa,  what  gorgeous  compliments! 
Don't  you  want  a  swap?  " 

"A  what?" 

"  A  swap.  That 's  what  we  call  it  when  we 
pay  back  one  compliment  with  another. ' ' 

He  turned  and  looked  at  her  with  an  amused 
approval  which  was  almost  paternal. 

"  It  is  most  refreshing,"  he  said,  "  to  have 
the  vocabulary  of  the  effete  West  enlivened 
with  these  breezy  expressions  from  the  grow 
ing  East." 


3afce  StanwooD's  (Sal  81 


"  But,  papa,  you  must  really  like  slang,  now 
really  !  Uncle  Nicholas  could  never  tolerate 
it." 

' '  There  you  strike  a  chord  !  I  desire  you 
to  speak  nothing  but  slang  if  Nick  objects." 

Agreeable  badinage  had  always  been  a  fa 
vorite  pastime  with  Jacob  Stan  wood.  If  Eliza 
beth  had  but  guessed  it,  a  taste  of  it  was  worth 
more  to  him  than  all  the  filial  devotion  she 
held  in  reserve. 

"  And  now  for  the  swap,"  she  said.  "  You 
are  not  modest,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  Heaven  forbid  !  " 

"Well,  then!  Miss  Hunniman — you  re 
member  Miss  Hunniman  ?  She  used  to  make 
mama's  dresses,  and  now  she  makes  mine. 
She  told  me  only  a  year  ago  that  whenever 
she  read  about  Sir  Galahad  or  the  Chevalier 
Bayard  or  Richard  the  lyion- hearted,  she  al 
ways  thought  of  you  ;  which  was  very  incon 
venient,  because  it  made  her  mix  them  up, 
and  she  never  could  remember  which  of  them 
went  to  the  Crusades  and  which  of  them  did 
not!  " 

Anything  in  the  nature  of  a  reminiscence 
was  sure  to  jar  upon  Stan  wood.  He  preferred 
to  consider  the  charming  young  person  beside 
him  as  an  agreeable  episode  ;  he  half  resented 
any  reminder  of  the  permanence  of  their  rela- 


82  ipeafc  anfc  prairie 


tion.  Therefore,  in  response  to  this  little  con 
fidence,  which  caused  the  quaint  figure  of  Miss 
Hunniman  to  present  itself  with  a  hundred 
small,  thronging  associations  of  the  past,  he 
only  remarked  drily  : 

"  I  suppose  you  know  that  if  you  stay  out 
here  any  length  of  time  you  will  spoil  your 
complexion." 

Elizabeth  was  impressionable  enough  to  feel 
the  full  significance  of  such  hints  and  side- 
thrusts  as  were  cautiously  administered  to  her. 
She  was  quite  aware  that  she  and  her  father 
were  totally  at  odds  on  the  main  point  at  issue, 
that  he  had  as  yet  no  intention  of  sharing  his 
solitude  with  her  for  any  length  of  time.  As 
the  days  went  by  she  perceived  something  else. 
She  was  not  long  in  discovering  that  he  was 
extremely  poor,  and  she  became  aware  in  some 
indefinable  wise  that  he  held  existence  very 
cheap.  Had  her  penetration  been  guided  by 
a  form  of  experience  which  she  happily  lacked, 
she  might  have  suspected  still  another  factor 
in  the  situation  which  had  an  unacknowledged 
influence  upon  Stanwood's  attitude. 

Meanwhile  their  relation  continued  to  be  a 
friendly  one.  They  were,  in  fact,  peculiarly 
congenial,  and  they  could  not  well  live  together 
without  discovering  it. 


3afce  Stanwoofc's  <3al  83 

They  rode  together,  they  cooked  together, 
they  set  up  a  target,  and  had  famous  shooting- 
matches.  Elizabeth  learned  to  milk  the  cows 
and  make  butter,  to  saddle  her  bronco  and 
mount  him  from  the  ground.  They  taught  the 
pups  tricks,  they  tamed  a  family  of  prairie- 
dogs,  they  had  a  plan  for  painting  the  wind 
mill.  By  the  end  of  a  week  Stanwood  was 
in  such  good  humor,  that  he  made  a  marked 
concession. 

One  of  the  glowing,  glimmering  sunsets  they 
both  delighted  in  was  going  on,  beautifying  the 
prairie  as  warmly  as  the  sky.  Stanwood  came 
from  the  shed  where  he  had  been  feeding  the 
horses,  and  found  his  visitor  seated  in  the 
doorway.  He  stood  observing  her  critically 
for  a  few  moments.  She  made  an  attractive 
picture  there  in  the  warm  sunset  light.  Before 
he  could  check  himself  he  found  himself  wish 
ing  that  her  mother  could  see  her.  Ah  !  If 
her  mother  were  here  too,  it  would  be  almost 
worth  while  to  begin  life  over  again. 

The  girl,  unconscious  of  his  scrutiny,  sat 
gazing  at  the  view  he  loved.  As  he  watched 
her  tranquil  happy  face  he  felt  reconciled  and 
softened.  Her  hands  lay  palm  downward  on 
her  lap.  They  were  shapely  hands,  large  and 
generous;  a  good  deal  tanned  and  freckled 


84  fi>eafc  an£>  prairie 

now.  There  was  something  about  them  which 
he  had  not  noticed  before  ;  and  almost  invol 
untarily  his  thoughts  got  themselves  spoken. 

"Do  you  know,  Elizabeth,  your  thumbs  are 
like  your  mother's  !  " 

Elizabeth  felt  that  it  was  a  concession,  but 
she  had  learned  wisdom.  She  did  not  turn  her 
eyes  from  the  range,  and  she  only  said  quietly, 
"  I  am  glad  of  that,  papa." 

Emboldened  by  the  consciousness  of  her  own 
discretion,  she  ventured,  later  in  the  evening, 
to  broach  a  subject  fraught  with  risks.  Hav 
ing  armed  herself  with  a  piece  of  embroidery, 
and  placed  the  lamp  between  herself  and  the 
object  of  her  diplomacy,  she  remarked  in  a 
casual  manner  : 

' '  I  suppose,  papa,  that  Uncle  Nicholas  has 
told  you  how  rich  we  are." 

' '  Nick  wrote  me  with  his  usual  conscious 
ness  of  virtue  that  his  investments  for  you  had 
turned  out  well." 

' '  Our  income  is  twice  what  it  was  ten  years 
ago." 

' '  I  congratulate  you,  my  dear.  I  only 
regret  the  moral  effect  upon  Nick." 

"  And  I  congratulate  you,  papa.  Of  course 
it 's  really  yours  as  long  as  you  live." 

"I  think  you  have  been  misinformed,  my 


$afce  stanwoofc's  <3al  85 

dear.     It  was  your  mother's  property,  and  is 
now  yours. ' ' 

"Oh,  no,  papa  !     You  have  a  life-interest  in 
it.  I  am  surprised  that  you  did  not  know  that. ' ' 
"And  I  am  surprised  that  you  should  be,  or 
pretend  to  be,  ignorant  that  the  property  stands 
in  your  name.     I  have  no  more  concern  in  it 
than — Miss  Hunniman." 
"But,  papa!  " 

'  We  won't  discuss  the  matter,  if  you 
please,  my  dear.  We  can  gain  nothing  by 
discussion." 

"I  don't  want  to  discuss  it,  papa,"  taking 
a  critical  survey  of  her  embroidery  ;  "  but  if 
you  won't  go  snacks,  I  won't.  Uncle  Nicholas 
told  me  never  to  say  '  go  snacks,'  "  she  added, 
with  a  side  glance  around  the  edge  of  the 
lamp-shade. 

His  face  relaxed  so  far  that  she  ventured  to 
add:  "Uncle  Nicholas  would  be  furious  if 
we  were  to  go  snacks. ' ' 

Stan  wood  smiled  appreciatively. 
"  Nothing  could  be  more  painful  to  me  than 
to  miss  an  opportunity  of  making  Nick  furi 
ous,"  he  said;  "but  I  have  not  lived  fifty 
years  without  having  learned  to  immolate  my 
self  and  my  dearest  ambitions  upon  the  appro 
priate  altars." 


86  peak  anfc  ftrairfe 


After  which  eloquent  summing-up,  he  turned 
the  conversation  into  another  channel. 

It  was  not  long  after  this  that  Stanwood 
found  himself  experiencing  a  peculiar  depres 
sion  of  spirits,  which  he  positively  refused  to 
trace  to  its  true  source.  He  told  himself  that 
he  wanted  his  freedom  ;  he  was  getting  tired 
of  Elizabeth  ;  he  must  send  her  home.  It  was 
nonsense  for  her  to  stay  any  longer,  spoiling 
her  complexion  and  his  temper  ;  it  was  really 
out  of  the  question  to  have  this  thing  go  on 
any  longer.  Having  come  to  which  conclu 
sion,  it  annoyed  him  very  much  to  find  him 
self  enjoying  her  society.  His  depression  of 
spirits  was  intermittent. 

One  morning,  when  he  found  her  sitting  on 
the  saw-horse,  with  the  new  bronco  taking  his 
breakfast  from  a  bag  she  held  in  her  lap,  the 
sun  shining  full  in  her  clear  young  face,  health 
and  happiness  in  every  line  of  her  figure,  a 
positive  thrill  of  fatherly  pride  and  affection 
seized  him.  But  the  reaction  was  immediate. 

He  turned  on  his  heel,  disgusted  at  this  ref 
utation  of  his  theories.  He  was  wretched  and 
uncomfortable  as  he  had  never  been  before, 
and  if  it  was  not  this  intruding  presence  that 
made  him  so,  what  was  it  ?  Of  course  he  was 
getting  tired  of  her  ;  what  could  be  more  nat- 


5afce  stanwoofc's  <3al  87 

ural  ?  For  fifteen  years  he  had  not  known  the 
pressure  of  a  bond.  Of  course  it  was  irksome 
to  him  !  He  really  must  get  rid  of  it. 

His  moodiness  did  not  escape  Elizabeth,  nor 
did  she  fail  to  note  the  recent  accentuating  of 
those  lines  in  his  face,  which  had  at  first  struck 
her  painfully,  but  which  she  had  gradually  be 
come  accustomed  to.  In  her  own  mind  she 
concluded  that  her  father  had  lived  too  long  at 
this  high  altitude,  and  that  she  must  persuade 
him  to  leave  it. 

Papa, ' '  she  said,  as  they  stood  for  a  moment 
in  the  doorway  after  supper, ' '  don't  you  think  it 
would  be  good  fun  to  go  abroad  this  autumn  ?  ' ' 

His  drooping  spirit  revived  ;  she  was  getting 
tired  of  ranching. 

"  A  capital  plan,  my  dear.  Just  what  you 
need,"  he  replied,  with  more  animation  than 
he  had  shown  since  morning. 

"  lyet  us  start  pretty  soon,"  she  went  on  per 
suasively,  deceived  by  his  ready  acquiescence. 

"  Us  ?  My  dear,  what  are  you  thinking  of? 
I  'm  tired  to  death  of  Europe  !  Nothing  would 
induce  me  to  go. ' ' 

"Oh,  well.  Then  I  don't  care  anything 
about  it,"  she  said.  "  We'll  stay  where  we 
are,  of  course.  I  am  as  happy  and  contented 
as  I  could  be  anywhere." 


88  peafc  an£>  jprafrie 


Stan  wood  turned  upon  her  with  a  sudden, 
fierce  irritation. 

"  This  is  nonsense  !  "  he  cried.  "  You  are 
not  to  bury  yourself  alive  out  here  !  I  won't 
permit  it  !  The  sooner  you  go,  the  better  for 
both  of  us!" 

His  voice  was  harsh  and  strained  ;  it  was  the 
tone  of  it  more  than  the  words  themselves  that 
cut  her  to  the  heart.  He  did  not  want  her  ;  it 
had  all  been  a  miserable  failure.  She  con 
trolled  herself  with  a  strong  effort.  Her  voice 
did  not  tremble  ;  there  was  only  the  pathos  of 
repression  in  it  as  she  answered  :  ' '  Very  well, 
papa  ;  perhaps  I  have  had  my  share." 

Stanwood  thought,  and  rebelled  against  the 
thought,  that  he  had  never  seen  a  finer  thing 
than  her  manner  of  replying.  For  himself,  he 
felt  as  if  he  had  come  to  the  dregs  of  life  and 
should  like  to  fling  the  cup  away. 

They  occupied  themselves  that  evening  a 
good  deal  with  the  collies,  and  they  parted 
early  ;  and  then  it  was  that  Stanwood  was 
brought  face  to  face  with  himself. 

For  half  an  hour  or  more  he  made  a  pretence 
of  reading  the  papers,  and  looking  at  the  pic 
tures  in  a  stray  magazine,  thus  keeping  him 
self  at  arm's  length,  as  it  were.  But  after  a 
while  even  that  restraint  became  unendurable. 


3-afce  Stanwoofc's  <3al  89 


He  went  to  the  back  door  of  the  house  and 
opened  it.  The  collies  appeared  in  a  delight 
ed  group  to  rush  into  the  house.  He  suffered 
them  to  do  so,  and  then,  stepping  out,  he 
closed  the  door  upon  them  and  stood  outside. 
There  was  a  strong  north  wind,  and,  for  a  mo 
ment,  its  breath  refreshed  him  like  a  dash  of 
cold  water.  Only  for  a  moment,  however. 
The  sense  of  oppression  returned  upon  him, 
and  he  felt  powerless  to  shake  it  off.  With 
the  uncertain,  wavering  step  of  a  sleep-walker, 
he  moved  across  to  the  spot  where  he  had 
poured  his  libation  three  weeks  ago.  He  stood 
there,  strangely  fascinated,  glancing  once  or 
twice,  furtively  over  his  shoulder.  Then, 
hardly  knowing  what  he  did,  he  got  down  on 
his  knees  and  put  his  face  to  the  ground.  Was 
it  the  taste  or  the  smell  that  he  craved  ?  He 
could  not  have  told.  He  only  knew  that  he 
knelt  there  and  pressed  his  face  to  the  earth, 
and  that  a  sickening  sense  of  disappointment 
came  over  him  at  finding  all  trace  of  it  gone. 
He  got  up  from  his  knees,  very  shaky  and 
weak,  and  then  it  was  that  he  looked  himself 
in  the  face  and  knew  what  the  ignominious 
craving  meant.  He  slunk  into  the  house, 
cowed  and  shamed.  The  sight  of  the  dogs, 
huddled  about  the  door  inside,  gave  him  a 


peafc  an&  prairie 


guilty  start,  and  he  drove  them  angrily  out. 
Then  he  got  himself  to  bed  in  the  dark.  He 
lay  there  in  the  dark,  wondering  foolishly  what 
Jacob  Stanwood  would  say  if  he  knew  what 
had  happened  ;  till,  suddenly,  he  became  aware 
that  his  mind  was  wandering,  upon  which  he 
laughed  harshly.  Elizabeth  heard  the  laugh, 
and  a  vague  fear  seized  upon  her.  She  got  up 
and  listened  at  her  door,  but  the  noise  was  not 
repeated.  Perhaps  it  was  a  coyote  outside  ; 
they  sometimes  made  strange  noises. 

She  went  to  the  window  and  drew  back  the 
Persian  altar-cloth.  The  wind  came  from  the 
other  side  of  the  house  ;  she  had  been  too 
preoccupied  to  notice  it  before.  Now  it  shook 
the  house  rudely,  and  then  went  howling  and 
roaring  across  the  plains.  It  was  strange  to 
hear  it  and  to  feel  its  force,  and  yet  to  see  no 
evidence  of  it  :  not  a  tree  to  wave  its  branches, 
not  a  cloud  to  scurry  through  the  sky  ;  only 
the  vast  level  prairie  and  the  immovable  hills, 
and  up  above  them  a  sky,  liquid  and  serene, 
with  steady  stars  shining  in  its  depths,  all  un 
concerned  with  the  raving  wind.  She  felt 
comforted  and  strengthened,  and  when  she 
went  back  to  bed  she  rested  in  the  sense  of 
comfort.  But  she  did  not  sleep. 

She  was    hardly   aware   that   she  was  not 


$afce  stanwoofc's  (Sal  91 


sleeping,  as  the  hours  passed  unmarked,  until, 
in  a  sudden  lull  of  the  wind,  a  voice  struck  her 
ear ;  a  voice  speaking  rapidly  and  eagerly. 
She  sprang  to  her  feet.  The  voice  came  from 
her  father's  room.  Had  some  one  lost  his  way 
in  the  night,  and  had  her  father  taken  him  in  ? 
It  did  not  sound  like  a  conversation  ;  it  was 
monotonous,  unvarying,  unnatural.  She  has 
tily  threw  on  a  dressing-gown,  and  crept  to 
her  father's  door.  She  recognized  his  voice 
now,  but  the  words  were  incoherent.  He  was 
ill,  he  was  delirious.  There  was  no  light 
within.  She  opened  the  door  and  whispered 
"Papa,"  but  he  did  not  hear  her.  In  a  mo 
ment  she  had  lighted  a  lamp  ;  another  moment, 
and  she  stood  beside  him.  He  was  sitting 
straight  up  in  his  bed,  talking  and  gesticulating 
violently  ;  his  eyes  glittered  in  the  lamp-light, 
his  face  showed  haggard  and  intense. 

Elizabeth  placed  the  lamp  upon  a  stand  close 
at  hand. 

"Papa,"  she  said,  "don't  you  know  me? 
I  'm  Elizabeth." 

He  caught  at  the  name. 

"  You  lie  !  "  he  cried  shrilly.  "  Elizabeth's 
dead  !  I  won't  have  her  talked  about  !  She  's 
dead,  I  say  !  Hush-sh  !  Hush-sh  !  Don't  wake 
her  up.  Sleep  '  s  a  good  thing — a  good  thing. ' ' 


92  ipeafc  and  prairie 


On  the  table  where  she  had  placed  the  lamp 
was  a  tiny  bottle  marked  "chloral."  There 
was  also  a  glass  of  water  upset  upon  the  table. 
Stan  wood's  clothing  and  other  belongings  lay 
scattered  upon  the  floor.  She  had  never  before 
seen  his  room  disordered.  Well  !  he  was  ill, 
and  here  she  was  to  take  care  of  him. 

He  was  not  talking  so  fast  now,  but  what  he 
said  was  even  more  incoherent.  The  light  and 
the  presence  of  another  person  in  the  room 
seemed  to  confuse  and  trouble  him.  She  took 
his  hand  and  felt  the  pulse.  The  hand  was 
hot,  and  grasped  hers  convulsively.  She  put 
his  coat  over  his  shoulders,  and  then  she  sat 
with  her  arm  about  him,  and  gradually  he 
stopped  talking,  and  turned  his  face  to  hers 
with  a  questioning  look. 

"  What  can  I  do  for  you,  papa  ?  Tell  me  if 
there  is  anything  I  can  do  for  you." 

"  Do  for  me  ?  "  he  repeated. 

"Yes,  dear.  Is  there  nothing  I  can  do, 
nothing  I  can  get  for  you  ?  ' ' 

"Get  for  me?" 

He  drew  off  from  her  a  little,  and  a  crafty 
look,  utterly  foreign  to  the  man's  nature, 
came  into  the  tense  face. 

"I  don't  suppose  you've  got  a  drop  of 
whisky  !  "  he  said  insinuatingly. 


$afce  StanwooD's  (Sal  93 


The  sound  of  the  word  upon  his  own  lips 
seemed  to  bring  the  excitement  back  on  him. 
"Whisky!  Yes,  that's  it!  I  don't  care  who 
knows  it!  Whisky!  Whisky!"  He  fairly 
hissed  the  words. 

For  the  first  time  since  she  came  into  the 
room  Elizabeth  was  frightened. 

"  I  think  you  ought  to  have  a  doctor,"  she 
said. 

She  felt  him  lean  against  her  again,  and  she 
gently  lowered  him  to  the  pillow.  His  head 
sank  back,  and  he  lay  there  with  white  lips 
and  closed  lids.  She  knelt  beside  him,  watch 
ing  his  every  breath.  After  a  few  minutes 
he  opened  his  eyes.  They  were  dull,  but  no 
longer  wild. 

' '  Ought  you  not  to  have  a  doctor,  papa 
dear?  "  she  asked. 

Intelligence  came  struggling  back  into  his 
face. 

"  No,  my  dear,"  he  said,  gathering  himself 
for  a  strong  effort.  "  I  have  had  attacks  like 
this  before." 

' '  And  a  stimulant  is  all  you  need  ? ' ' 

"All  I  need,"  he  muttered.  His  eyes 
closed,  and  his  breath  came  even  and  deep. 

Elizabeth  knelt  there,  thankful  that  he  slept. 
How  white  his  lips  were  !  How  spent  he 


94  peak  anD  prairie 


looked  !  He  had  asked  for  whisky.  Perhaps 
even  in  his  delirium  he  knew  what  he  wanted  ; 
perhaps  a  stimulant  was  all  he  needed.  Of 
course  it  was  !  How  stupid  not  to  have  un 
derstood  ! 

She  hurried  to  her  room  and  got  a  small 
brandy-flask  that  had  been  given  her  for  the 
journey.  She  had  emptied  it  for  a  sick  man 
on  the  train. 

She  went  back  to  her  father.  He  was  sleep 
ing  heavily.  She  glanced  at  his  watch  lying 
upon  the  table  beside  the  chloral  bottle.  One 
o'clock  !  She  wondered  whether  the  "  store •" 
would  be  open.  She  should  hate  to  go  to  a 
saloon.  But  then,  that  was  no  matter.  If  her 
father  needed  a  stimulant  he  must  have  it. 
She  dressed  herself  quickly,  and  put  her  purse 
and  the  brandy-flask  into  her  pocket.  Then 
she  hurried  to  the  shed,  where  she  saddled  the 
bronco.  Her  father  had  once  told  her  that  she 
would  have  made  a  first-rate  cowboy.  Well, 
now  was  her  chance  to  prove  it. 

The  collies,  who  had  taken  refuge  from  the 
wind  on  the  south  side  of  the  shed,  came 
trotting  in  at  the  open  door,  and  assembled,  a 
curious  little  shadowy  group,  about  her.  But 
they  soon  dropped  off  to  sleep,  and  when  she 
led  the  bronco  out  and  closed  the  door  upon 


's  <3al  95 


them,  a  feeble  wag  of  a  tail  or  two  was  all  the 
evidence  of  interest  they  gave. 

She  twisted  the  bridle  round  a  post  and 
slipped  into  the  house  for  one  more  look  at  her 
patient.  He  was  sleeping  profoundly.  She 
placed  the  lamp  upon  the  floor  in  a  corner,  so 
that  the  bed  was  in  shadow.  Then  she  came 
back  to  the  bedside  and  watched  the  sleeper 
again  for  a  moment.  She  touched  his  forehead 
and  found  it  damp  and  cool.  The  fever  was 
past.  Perhaps  he  was  right  ;  there  was  no 
need  of  a  doctor — it  was  nothing  serious.  Per 
haps  the  stuff  in  that  little  bottle  had  done 
something  queer  to  him.  A  stimulant  was  all 
he  needed.  But  he  needed  that,  for  his  face 
was  pitifully  pallid  and  drawn. 

A  moment  later  the  bronco  was  bearing  her 
swiftly  through  the  night,  his  hoof- falls  echo 
ing  in  a  dull  rhythm.  The  wind  still  came  in 
gusts,  blowing  straight  into  her  face,  but  it  was 
warm  and  pleasant.  When  she  had  passed 
through  the  gate  of  the  ranch  the  road  went 
between  wire  fences,  straight  north  to  Cameron 
City.  Now  and  then  a  group  of  horses,  roused, 
perhaps,  by  her  approach,  stood  with  their 
heads  over  the  fence  watching  her  pass,  while 
the  wind  stretched  their  manes  and  tails  out 
straight  to  one  side.  She  wished  she  could 


peak  anD  prairie 


stop  and  make  friends  with  them,  but  there 
was  no  time  for  that.  Her  father  might  wake 
up  and  call  for  her.  So  on  they  sped,  she  and 
the  bronco,  waking  the  cattle  on  either  side  of 
the  road,  startling  more  than  one  prowling 
coyote,  invisible  to  them,  causing  more  than 
one  prairie-dog,  snug  in  his  hole,  to  fancy  it 
must  be  morning.  And  the  great  night,  encom 
passing  the  world,  gleaming  in  the  heavens, 
brooding  upon  the  earth,  made  itself  known 
to  her  for  the  first  time.  Elizabeth  never  for 
got  that  ride  through  the  beautiful  brooding 
night.  Nature  seemed  larger  and  deeper  and 
grander  to  her  ever  after. 

As  they  came  among  the  houses  of  the  town 
she  reined  in  the  bronco  and  went  quietly,  lest 
she  should  wake  the  people.  There  was  a 
light  burning  in  the  room  over  the  store,  and 
the  window  was  open.  A  woman  answered 
her  summons.  It  was  the  wife  of  the  store 
keeper.  Her  husband  was  absent,  she  said, 
and  she  was  up  with  a  sick  baby.  She  readily 
filled  the  little  flask,  and  was  sympathetic  and 
eager  to  help.  Should  n't  she  send  somebody 
over  to  the  ranch  ?  There  was  n't  any  doctor 
in  Cameron  City,  but  Cy  Willows  knew  a  heap 
about  physic. 

No.     Elizabeth  said  her   father   was  better 


StanwooD's  <5al  97 


already,  only  he  seemed  in  need  of  a  stimu 
lant.  No,  she  did  not  want  an  escort.  The 
night  was  lovely,  and  she  wouldn't  miss  her 
solitary  ride  home  for  anything.  She  was  so 
glad  Mrs.  Stiles  had  the  whisky.  It  would  be 
just  what  her  father  needed  when  he  waked 
up. 

And  when,  some  hours  later,  Jacob  Stan- 
wood  awoke,  he  found  his  daughter  sitting 
beside  him  in  the  gray  dawn. 

"  Why,  Elizabeth  !  "  he  said,  "is  anything 
the  matter  ?  Did  I  disturb  you  ?  ' ' 

She  leaned  toward  him,  and  laid  her  hand 
on  his. 

"  You  were  ill  in  the  night,  papa,  and  asked 
for  a  stimulant,  and  I  got  it  for  you." 

"  A  stimulant?"  he  repeated  vaguely. 
''What  stimulant?  Where  did  you  get  it  ?" 

"  I  got  it  at  the  store.     It 's  whisky." 

"  Whisky  ?  "  he  cried,  with  a  sudden,  eager 
gleam. 

Elizabeth  was  enchanted  to  find   that    she , 
had  done  the  right  thing. 

"Here  it  is,  papa,"  she  said,  drawing  the 
flask  from  her  pocket,  and  pouring  a  little  of 
the  contents  into  a  glass  that  stood  ready. 

He  watched  her  with  that  intense,  eager 
gleam. 


98  jpeafc  anD  iprairie 


' '  Fill  it  up  !  Fill  it  up  !  "  he  cried  im 
patiently.  ' '  A  drop  like  that  is  no  good  to  a 
man." 

He  was  sitting  straight  up  again,  just  as  she 
found  him  in  the  night.  He  reached  his  thin 
hand  for  the  glass,  which  he  clutched  tightly. 
The  smell  of  the  liquor  was  strong  in  the  room. 
His  eyes  were  glittering  with  excitement. 

The  girl  stood  beside  him,  contemplating 
with  affectionate  delight  the  success  of  her 
experiment.  Her  utter  innocence  and  unsus- 
piciousness  smote  him  to  the  heart.  Some 
thing  stayed  his  hand  so  that  he  did  not  even 
lift  the  glass  to  his  lips.  Slowly,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  the  sweet,  young  face,  he  extended 
his  arm  out  over  the  side  of  the  bed,  the  glass 
shaking  plainly  in  his  hold.  She  did  not 
notice  it ;  she  was  looking  into  his  face  which 
had  softened  strangely. 

"Elizabeth,"  he  said. 

There  was  a  sound  of  breaking  glass,  and 
a  strong  smell  of  liquor  pouring  out  upon  the 
floor. 

"  O  papa  !  "  she  cried,  distressed. 

He  had  sunk  back  against  the  pillows,  pale 
with  exhaustion.  But  when  she  lifted  the  frag 
ments  of  the  glass,  saying  :  "  Is  n't  it  a  pity, 
papa  ?  "  he  only  answered  in  his  usual  tone, 


99 


"There  's  no  harm  done,  my  dear.     I  don't 
believe  it  was  just  what  I  needed,  after  all." 

He  smiled  with  a  new,  indescribable  sweet 
ness  and  weariness. 

"  I  think  I  could  sleep,  now,"  he  said. 

At  noon  Stanwood  was  quite  himself  again  ; 
himself  and  more,  he  thought,  with  some  sur 
prise.  He  would  not  have  owned  that  it 
was  a  sense  of  victory  that  had  put  new  life 
into  his  veins.  Victory  over  a  vulgar  passion 
must  partake  somewhat  of  the  vulgarity  of  the 
passion  itself.  No,  Stanwood  was  not  the  man 
to  glory  in  such  a  conquest.  But  he  could,  at 
last,  glory  in  this  daughter  of  his. 

As  she  told  him  with  sparkling  eyes  of  her 
beautiful  ride  through  the  night,  through  the 
beautiful  brooding  night,  her  courage  and 
her  innocence  seemed  to  him  like  a  fair,  benefi 
cent  miracle.  But  he  made  no  comment 
upon  her  story.  He  only  sat  in  the  doorway, 
looking  down  the  road  where  he  had  watched 
her  approach  a  few  weeks  ago,  and  when  she 
said,  noting  his  abstraction,  "A  penny  for 
your  thoughts,  papa  !  "  he  asked,  in  a  purely 
conversational  tone,  '  '  Elizabeth,  '  '  —  she  always 
loved  to  hear  him  say  "Elizabeth,"  —  "  Eliza 
beth,  do  you  think  it  would  make  Nick  very 
mad  indeed  if  we  were  to  go  snacks  ?  '  ' 


loo  ipeafc  anfc  jprairie 


"  Mad  as  hops  !  "  she  cried. 

"Then  let's  doit!" 

Elizabeth  beamed. 

"  And  Elizabeth,  there  's  no  place  like  Swit 
zerland  in  summer.  L,et  's  pack  up  and  go  !  " 

"Let  us  !  "  she  answered,  very  softly,  with 
only  a  little  exultant  tremor  on  the  words. 

She  never  guessed  all  that  she  had  won 
that  day  ;  she  only  knew  that  life  stretched 
on  before  her,  a  long,  sunny  pathway,  where 
she  and  her  father  might  walk  together  in 
the  daily  and  hourly  good-comradeship  that 
she  loved. 


IV. 

AT  THE    KKITH   RANCH. 

'"THE  dance  was  in  full  swing — a  vehement, 
rhythmic,  dead-in-earnest  ranch  dance. 
Eight  couples  on  the  floor  tramped  or  tiptoed, 
as  the  case  might  be,  but  always  in  perfect 
time  with  the  two  unmelodious  fiddles.  The 
tune,  if  tune  it  might  be  called,  went  over  and 
over  and  over  again,  with  the  monotonous  per 
sistency  of  a  sawmill,  dominating  the  rhythmic 
tread  of  the  dancers,  but  not  subduing  the 
fancy  of  the  caller-out. 

The  caller-out  for  the  moment  was  a  curly- 
headed  lad  of  twenty,  with  a  shrewd,  good- 
humored  face.  He  stood  in  a  slouching  attitude, 
one  shoulder  much  higher  than  the  other,  and 
as  he  gave  forth,  in  a  singsong  voice,  his 
emphatic  rhymed  directions,  his  fingers  played 
idly  with  the  red-silk  lacings  of  his  brown 
flannel  shirt.  To  an  imaginative  looker-on 


i'o2  fteafc  anb  prairie 

those  idly  toying  fingers  had  an  indefinable  air 
of  being  very  much  at  home  with  the  trigger 
of  the  six-shooter  at  the  lad's  belt.  So,  at 
least,  it  struck  Lem  Keith. 

"  Swing  him  round  for  old  Mother  Flannigau  ! 

You  've  swung  him  so  nice,  now  swing  him  again, 

again  ! 

On  to  the  next,  and  swing  that  gent ! 
Now  straight  back,  and  swing  your  own  man  again  !  " 

Tramp,  tramp,  tramp  went  the  rhythmic 
feet  ;  diddle-diddle-dee  went  the  fiddles.  There 
was  not  much  talking  among  either  dancers  or 
sitters-out.  Occasionally  one  of  the  babies  in 
the  adjoining  bedroom  waked  and  wailed,  but 
on  the  whole  they  were  well-behaved  babies. 
There  they  lay  on  the  bed,  six  in  a  row,  while 
their  mothers  eagerly  snatched  their  bit  of 
pleasure  at  the  cost  of  a  night's  sleep. 

Lemuel  Keith,  joint  host  with  his  brother 
on  this  occasion,  sat  on  a  bench  against  the 
wall,  contemplating  with  wonder  the  energy 
of  these  overworked  women.  Beside  him  sat 
the  husband  of  one  of  them,  a  tall,  gaunt 
ranchman,  with  his  legs  crossed,  poising  upon 
a  bony  knee  an  atom  of  humanity  in  a  short 
plaided  woollen  frock. 

"How  old  is  your  baby?"  asked  I,em, 
mindful  of  his  duties  as  host. 


at  tbe  Ikeitb  IRancb  103 


"  Four  months,"  was  the  laconic  reply  ;  and 
as  though  embarrassed  by  the  personal  nature 
of  the  inquiry,  the  man  rose  and  repaired  to  a 
remote  corner,  where  he  began  a  solemn  waltz 
with  his  offspring  in  his  arms. 

It  was  an  April  evening,  and  the  windows 
were  open  to  the  south.  A  cool  night-breeze 
came  in,  grateful  alike  to  dancers  and  lookers- 
on.  L,em  sat  watching  his  twin  brother  Joe, 
who  was  taking  his  turn  at  the  dance.  L,em 
usually  watched  Joe  when  he  had  the  chance  ; 
for  if  the  brothers  were  bewilderingly  alike  in 
appearance,  they  were  animated  by  a  spirit  so 
unlike,  that  Joe's  every  look  and  action  was  a 
source  of  interest  to  I^em.  Indeed,  it  was  his 
taste  for  Joe's  society  that  had  made  a  Colo 
rado  ranchman  of  him.  Nature  had  intended 
Lemuel  Keith  for  a  student,  and  then,  by  a 
strange  oversight,  had  made  him  the  twin- 
brother  of  a  fascinating  daredevil  for  whom 
the  East  was  too  narrow. 

L,em  sat  and  watched  Joe,  and  observed  the 
progress  of  the  dance,  philosophizing  over  the 
scene  in  a  way  peculiar  to  himself.  For  his 
own  part,  he  never  danced  if  he  could  help 
himself,  but  he  found  the  dancing  human  be 
ing  a  fruitful  subject  of  contemplation.  Joe's 
partner,  in  particular,  amused  and  interested 


104  IPeafc  and  prairie 


him.  She  was  a  rather  dressy  young  person, 
with  a  rose-leaf  complexion  and  a  simpering 
mouth.  Rose-leaf  complexions  are  rare  on  the 
sun-drenched,  wind-swept  prairies,  and  the 
more  effective  for  that.  The  possessor  of  this 
one,  fully  aware  of  her  advantage,  was  display 
ing,  for  her  partner's  delectation,  the  most 
wonderful  airs  and  graces.  She  glided  about 
upon  the  points  of  her  toes  ;  she  gave  him  her 
delicately  poised  finger-tips  with  a  birdlike 
coyness  which  the  glance  of  her  beady  black 
eyes  belied.  Joe  was  in  his  element,  playing 
the  bold  yet  insinuating  cavalier. 

L,em  Keith  found  a  fascination  in  this  first 
ranch  dance  of  his.  He  liked  the  heartiness  of 
the  whole  performance  ;  he  enjoyed  the  sharp- 
cut  individuality  of  the  people,  their  eccentri 
cities  of  costume  and  deportment ;  he  was  of 
too  sensitive  a  fibre  not  to  feel  the  dramatic 
possibilities  of  the  occasion.  "  Tenderfoot ' '  as 
he  was,  the  fact  could  not  escape  him  that  a 
man  in  a  flannel  shirt,  with  a  pistol  at  his  belt, 
— and  most  of  the  men  were  thus  equipped, — 
was  more  than  likely  to  have  a  touch  of  law 
lessness  about  him. 

There  was  a  pause  between  the  two  figures 
of  the  dance.  Joe  had  taken  his  partner's  fan, 
which  he  was  gently  waving  to  and  fro  before 


Bt  tbc  Ifcettb  IRancb  105 


her  face.  She  stood  panting  with  affected  ex 
haustion,  glancing  archly  at  her  new  ' '  young 
man  ' '  from  under  studiously  fluttering  eyelids. 
The  gaunt  father,  having  stopped  waltzing, 
had  discovered  that  the  woollen-clad  baby  was 
fast  asleep  on  his  shoulder.  Over  in  another 
corner,  under  a  window,  was  a  red-faced  cow 
boy,  slumbering  as  tranquilly  as  the  baby,  his 
head  sunk  on  his  breast,  a  genial  forelock  wav 
ing  lightly  in  the  breeze.  The  fiddlers  resumed 
their  function.  "Swing  your  pards  !  "  cried 
the  curly-headed  boy  ;  and  once  more  all  was 
commotion. 

The  room  seemed  hot  and  crowded.  I^em 
had  shifted  his  position,  and  was  standing 
opposite  the  windows.  He  looked  toward 
them,  and  his  glance  was  arrested.  In  the 
square  of  light  cast  outside  by  the  lamps  within 
was  a  sinister,  malignant  face.  It  was  the  face 
of  a  man  whom  the  Keith  boys  had  seen  to 
night  for  the  first  time.  He  had  paid  his 
seventy-five  cents,  and  had  received  his  num 
bered  ticket  like  the  others,  by  which  simple 
ceremony  all  the  requirements  of  ranch  eti 
quette  were  fulfilled.  Bub  Quinn  they  called 
him — Bub  Quinn  from  the  Divide.  Rather  a 
nice-looking  fellow,  the  brothers  had  agreed, 
attracted  by  his  brilliant  smile  and  hearty 


106  peak  ant)  prairie 


hand-shake.  It  was  Bub  Quinn  who  had 
brought  the  girl  that  Joe  was  dancing  with, 
and  now  that  Lem  came  to  think  of  it,  he 
could  not  remember  having  seen  her  dance 
with  any  one  else,  besides  Quinn  himself. 
Item's  heart  gave  a  heavy  thump  almost  before 
his  brain  had  grasped  the  situation.  Yet  the 
situation  was  very  plain.  It  was  Joe  and  his 
little  fool  of  a  partner  that  those  malignant 
eyes  were  following. 

They  were  light  eyes,  looking  out  from  under 
level  light  eyebrows,  and  Lem  frankly  quaked 
at  sight  of  them.  The  man's  face  was  clean 
shaven,  showing  high  cheek-bones  and  a  firm, 
handsome  mouth.  He  stood  in  an  indolent 
attitude,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets  ;  but  all 
the  reckless  passion  of  the  desperado  was  con 
centrated  in  the  level  glance  of  those  menacing 
eyes. 

1 '  Meet  3^our  partner  with  a  double  sashay, '  * 
cried  the  curly-headed  boy.  Diddle-diddle-dee 
squeaked  the  fiddles.  Lem  looked  again  at 
his  brother.  He  was  flirting  outrageously. 

A  door  opened  behind  Lem,  and  a  woman 
called  him  by  name.  He  stepped  into  the 
kitchen,  where  two  of  his  prairie  neighbors 
were  busy  with  the  supper.  It  was  Mrs.  Lu- 
ella  Jenkins  who  had  summoned  him,  kind, 


tbe  Ifceftb  Iflancb  107 


queer,  warm-hearted  Mrs.  Luella.  The 
4 '  Keith  boys ' '  were  giving  their  first  dance, 
and  she  had  undertaken  to  engineer  the 
supper. 

"  We  've  got  the  coffee  on,"  she  remarked, 
pointing  over  her  shoulder  at  a  couple  of  gal 
lon-cans  on  the  stove,  from  which  an  agreeable 
aroma  was  rising. 

"That's  first-rate,"  said  Lem,  who  had  a 
much  more  distinct  vision  of  Bub  Quinn's  eyes 
than  of  the  mammoth  tin  cans.  ' '  Is  there 
anything  I  can  do  to  help  ? ' ' 

"Well,  I  dunno,"  Mrs.  Luella  ruminated. 
Her  speech  was  as  slow  as  her  movements 
were  quick.  "  I  was  thinkin'  't  was  'most  a 
pity  you  had  n't  had  bun  sandwiches."  She 
looked  regretfully  at  the  rapidly  growing  pile 
of  the  ordinary  kind  with  which  the  table  was 
being  loaded.  "  The  buns  taste  kind  o'  sweet 
and  pleasant,  mixed  up  with  the  ham." 

Through  the  closed  door  came  the  scraping 
of  the  indefatigable  fiddles.  "  Hold  her  tight, 
and  run  her  down  the  middle  !  "  shouted  the 
voice  of  the  caller-out. 

"Over  to  Watts's  last  fall,"  Mrs.  Luella 
rambled  on,  slicing  ham  the  while  at  a  great 
rate,  "  they  had  bun  sandwiches,  and  in  the 
top  of  ary  bun  there  was  a  toothpick  stickin' 


io8  fceafc  ant)  prairie 


up.  If  you  've  got  toothpicks  enough  about 
the  place,  we  might  try  it.  It  looks  real 
tasty." 

"Mrs.  Jenkins,"  I^em  broke  in,  "do  you 
know  Bub  Quinn  ? ' ' 

"  No ;  nor  I  don't  want  to,"  I^uella  answered 
curtly. 

"Why  not?" 

"  He  's  too  handy  with  his  shooting-irons  to 
suit  my  taste." 

Then,  resuming  the  thread  of  her  discourse  : 
"  You  don't  think,  now,  you  've  got  toothpicks 
enough  ?  They  ' d  set  things  off  real  nice. "  But 
L,em  had  departed. 

"  I  s'pose  he  's  kind  o'  flustered  with  givin' 
their  first  dance,"  she  said  apologetically  to 
her  coadjutor  among  the  sandwiches. 

lyem  was  a  great  favorite  with  Mrs.  Luella. 
She  liked  him  better  than  she  did  Joe.  She 
was  one  of  the  few  people  who  could,  at  a 
glance,  tell  the  two  brothers  apart.  She  always 
spoke  of  Lem  as  the  "little  chap,"  though 
he  was  in  fact  precisely  of  a  height  with  his 
brother ;  and  she  gave  as  the  reason  for  the 
preference,  that  "the  little  chap  wasn't  a 
ramper."  Unfortunately  for  I^em,  perhaps, 
she  was  right.  He  was  not  a  ramper. 

As  lyem  stepped  out  into  the  other  room,  the 


Bt  tbe  Ikeitb  IRancb  109 

caller-out  was  shouting,  "  Promen-aflk  all— you 
know  where  ! ' '  The  sets  were  breaking  up, 
and  Joe  with  his  best  manner  was  leading  his 
partner  to  a  seat.  The  face  had  vanished  from 
the  window.  Bub  Quinn  was  striding  across 
the  room,  and  now  planted  himself  in  front  of 
the  recreant  pair. 

"You're  to  come  with  me,  Aggy,"  he 
growled. 

"  Pray  don't  mention  it  !  "  cried  Joe,  relin 
quishing  the  girl  to  Quinn  with  a  mocking 
reverence. 

Shrugging  her  shoulders,  and  pouting,  Aggy 
moved  away  with  her  captor  ;  not,  however, 
without  a  parting  glance  over  her  shoulder  at 
Joe.  The  two  brothers  met  at  the  kitchen-door. 

"I  say,  Joe,"  I,em  begged,  "don't  dance 
with  that  girl  again." 

"  And  why  not !  " 

"You  wouldn't  ask  why  not  if  you  had 
seen  that  ruffian's  face  at  the  window." 

"Did  n't  I  see  it,  though  ?  "  scoffed  Joe,  in 
high  spirits,  and  I^em  knew  that  he  had  blun 
dered. 

A  new  caller-out  had  taken  the  floor,  and 
was  shouting,  "  Seventeen  to  twenty-four,  get 
on  the  floor  and  dance  ! ' ' 

The  pauses  are  short  at  a  ranch  dance,  for 


IJO  Ipeafc  and  prairie 

each  man,  having  a  right  in  only  one  dance 
out  of  three  or  four,  is  eager  for  his  turn.  The 
women  on  this  particular  occasion  might  have 
been  glad  of  a  rest,  for  there  were  only  ten  of 
them  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  all  the  men, 
and  steady  dancing  from  eight  o'clock  to  three 
is  no  light  task.  Nevertheless,  each  one  rose 
with  sufficient  alacrity  in  response  to  the  po 
lite  inquiry,  "  Will  you  assist  me  with  this 
dance  ? ' '  and  in  a  few  minutes  the  same  many- 
colored  woollen  gowns,  and  much  befrizzled 
heads,  which  had  diversified  the  last  sets,  were 
lending  lustre  to  the  present  dance. 

Neither  Bub  Quinn  nor  Joe  Keith  was  in 
cluded  this  time  among  those  admonished  to 
"  get  on  the  floor  and  dance,"  and  Lem,  thank 
ful  for  the  respite,  stepped  out  on  the  piazza, 
where  a  group  of  men  were  lounging  and 
smoking.  The  air  outside  was  sharp  and 
invigorating  ;  the  moon  was  full,  and  in  its 
cold,  clear  light  the  Peak  glimmered  white  and 
ghostly. 

L,em  strolled  off  the  piazza,  and  over  to  the 
group  of  sorry-looking  broncos,  in  saddle  or 
harness,  standing  hitched  to  the  fence.  He 
pushed  in  among  them,  patting  their  heads, 
or  righting  the  blankets  of  the  few  that  were 
fortunate  enough  to  have  such  luxuries.  He 


tbc  ffieitb  tRancb  m 


felt  as  though  he  should  like  to  enter  into  con 
fidential  relations  with  them.  They  seemed, 
somehow,  more  of  his  own  kind  than  the 
rough,  jostling,  pugnacious  beings  passing 
themselves  off  as  men  and  brothers  within 
there.  He  poked  about  from  one  to  the  other 
of  the  sturdy,  plush-coated  little  beasts,  till 
he  came  to  a  great  white  plow-horse  har 
nessed  to  a  sulky,  and  looking  like  a  giant 
in  contrast  with  the  scrubby  broncos.  The 
amiability  which  is  supposed  to  wait  upon 
generous  proportions  proved  to  be  a  character 
istic  of  this  equine  Goliath,  for  at  Item's  ap 
proach  he  cocked  his  ears  and  turned  his  head 
with  marked  friendliness.  lyem  looked  across 
the  creature's  rough  neck  to  the  firm,  strong 
outlines  of  "the  range,"  showing  clearly  in 
the  moonlight ;  he  drew  his  lungs  full  of  the 
keen,  thin  air.  But  neither  "the  strength  of 
the  hills,"  nor  the  elixir  of  the  air,  could 
restore  his  equanimity.  He  could  not  throw 
off  the  weight  that  oppressed  him.  There  was 
no  shirking  the  truth.  He  was  deadly  afraid 
of  Bub  Quinn  ;  the  sight  of  that  lowering  face 
at  the  window  had  caused  in  him  a  horrible 
physical  shrinking  ;  the  dread  of  an  undefined 
mischief  brewing  weighed  upon  his  spirit  like 
a  nightmare. 


Ipeafc  anD  prairie 


' '  Great  heavens  !  What  a  coward  I  am  ! ' ' 
he  groaned  aloud." 

The  white  horse  rubbed  his  velvet  nose  in 
mute  sympathy  against  the  young  man's  shoul 
der  ;  but  there  was  no  solace  that  the  white 
horse  could  give.  I^em  leaned  against  the 
friendly  neck,  and  shut  his  teeth  hard  together. 
A  lifelong  chagrin  welled  up  in  him,  flooding 
his  soul  with  bitterness. 

If  Lemuel  Keith  had  not  adored  his  brother, 
he  would  have  hated  him — hated  him  for  pos 
sessing  that  one  quality  of  rash  courage  beside 
which  every  other  virtue  seemed  mean  and 
worthless. 

Presently  he  found  himself  looking  in  at  the 
window  again.  Joe  had  disappeared  from  the 
scene.  Bub  Quinn  and  his  Aggy  were  sitting 
side  by  side  in  stony  silence.  The  fiddles  had 
fallen  into  a  more  sentimental  strain  ;  hints  of 
'  The  Mocking  Bird  ' '  might  be  heard  strug 
gling  for  utterance  in  the  strings.  In  this 
ambitious  attempt  the  pitch  would  get  lower  and 
lower,  and  then  recover  itself  with  a  queer  fal 
setto  effect.  Charley  Leroy,  the  crack  ' '  bron 
co-buster  "  of  the  region,  was  caller-out  this 
time.  He  was  less  inventive  than  the  curly- 
headed  boy,  but  he  gave  out  his  commands  in 
the  same  chanting  measure,  and  the  tramp, 


at  tbe  Ikeitb  IRancb  n;j 


tramp  of  the  feet  was  as  rhythmic  as  ever. 
The  curly-headed  boy  was  having  his  turn  at 
the  dance,  "assisted  "  by  a  sallow,  middle-aged 
woman  in  a  brown  woollen  dress,  who  made 
frequent  dashes  into  the  adjoining  room  to 
quiet  her  baby.  I^em  noticed  that  the  hands 
of  the  curly-headed  boy  were  so  tanned  that 
the  finger-nails  showed  white  by  contrast.  He 
also  observed  that  Aggy's  neck  was  as  pink  as 
her  cheeks,  which  had  not  been  the  case  half 
an  hour  before.  In  his  effort  not  to  look  at 
Bub  Quinn,  Item's  attention  had  become  vague 
and  scattered.  He  fixed  his  eyes  upon  an  el 
derly  man  of  an  anxious  countenance,  with  a 
shock  of  tow-colored  hair  sticking  straight 
out  in  all  directions.  The  man  was  having 
some  difficulty  in  steering  his  partner  through 
an  intricate  figure  ;  he  was  the  only  person  on 
the  floor  who  did  not  keep  step,  and  his  move 
ments  became  at  every  moment  more  vague  and 
undecided.  When,  at  last,  the  wiry,  deter 
mined-looking  ' '  bronco-buster  ' '  sprang  upon 
the  company  the  somewhat  abstruse  direction  : 

"  Lady  round  the  gent,  and  the  gent  don't  go  ; 
Lady  round  the  lady,  and  the  gent  so-lo  !  " 

the  "  gent  "  in  question  became  hopelessly  be 
wildered,  and  stood  stock  still  in  the  middle 

8 


H4  iPeafc  an£>  prairie 


of  the  floor.  By  the  time  the  set  was  disen 
tangled,  the  dance  seemed  to  be  over,  and  the 
' '  bronco-buster ' '  dismissed  the  dancers  with 
the  cynical  prophecy,  "  You  '11  all  get  married 
on  a  stor-my  day  !  ' ' 

At  this  juncture,  midnight  being  well  passed, 
supper  was  announced.  The  kitchen  door 
swung  open,  and  the  fragrant  smell  of  the  cof 
fee  took  possession  of  the  room,  and  floated 
out  through  the  open  window.  As  some  one 
closed  the  window  in  his  face,  L,em  followed 
the  other  loungers  into  the  house.  The  men 
had  all  made  a  stampede  for  the  kitchen  ;  the 
women  sat  on  chairs  and  benches  against  the 
wall,  some  of  them  leaning  their  heads  back 
wearily,  while  others  fanned  themselves  and 
their  neighbors  with  vigor,  not  relaxing  for  a 
moment  the  somewhat  strained  vivacity  which 
they  felt  that  the  occasion  demanded.  Bub 
Quinn's  Aggy — no  one  knew  her  last  name — 
sat  a  little  apart  from  the  others.  She  was  ap 
parently  absorbed  in  the  contemplation  of  her 
pocket-handkerchief,  a  piece  of  coarse  finery, 
which  she  held  by  the  exact  middle,  flirting  it 
across  her  face  in  lieu  of  the  fan,  which  had 
slid  to  the  floor. 

Lem  paused  on  his  way  to  the  kitchen,  and 
observed  her  closely.  He  saw  the  pink  of  her 


Bt  tbc  Ifceitb  IRancb  115 


neck  take  on  a  deeper  tinge,  and  at  the  same 
moment  Bub  Quinn  and  Joe  brushed  past  him 
and  stood  before  the  girl,  each  offering  her  a 
plate  on  which  reposed  two  sandwiches  and  a 
section  of  cucumber  pickle. 

This  was  Aggy's  opportunity.  She  shrugged 
her  shoulders,  which  were  encased  in  red  velve 
teen  ;  she  lifted  and  then  dropped  her  eyes, 
poising  her  head  first  on  one  side  and  then  on 
the  other ;  she  clasped  her  hands  and  wrinkled 
her  forehead.  L,em  felt  as  though  he  were 
watching  the  capricious  sparks  which  mark  the 
progress  of  a  slow  match  toward  a  powder-train. 
Bub  Quinn,  meanwhile,  stood  rooted  before  the 
girl,  while  Joe,  having  possessed  himself  of  the 
fallen  fan,  met  her  coquetry  with  blandishments 
of  the  most  undisguised  nature.  At  length,  hesi 
tatingly,  deprecatingly,  she  took  Quinn' s  plate, 
but  at  the  same  time  she  moved  along  on  the 
bench  and  offered  Joe  a  seat.  He  promptly 
took  it,  and  Quinn  went  away  with  the  calm 
ness  of  a  silently  gathering  thunder-cloud. 

Quinn  did  not  dance  again  that  night  ;  he 
withdrew  to  the  piazza.,  where  he  kept  guard  at 
the  window  hour  after  hour.  Joe  danced  with 
no  one  but  Aggy,  and  sat  beside  her  between 
whiles.  Lem  wandered  about,  trying  not  to 
watch  Quinn.  He  knew  his  brother  too  well  to 


n6  ipeafc  anfc  prairie 


remonstrate  with  him  again  by  so  much  as  a 
look. 

As  the  night  wore  on,  the  hilarity  of  the 
company  increased,  nothing  daunted  by  the 
sight  of  a  man  lying  here  and  there  under  a 
bench  with  a  telltale  black  bottle  protruding 
from  his  pocket.  When  the  favorite  figure  of 
the  ' '  Bird  in  the  Cage  ' '  was  danced,  and  the 
caller-out  shouted,  "  Bird  flies  out,  and  the 
crow  flies  in,"  everybody  in  the  room  cried 
' '  Caw  !  caw  !  "  in  excellent  imitation  of  the 
sable-hued  fowl  thereby  typified,  and  the  dan 
cers,  conscious  of  an  admiring  public,  "  swung ' ' 
and  "sashayed"  with  increased  vehemence. 
Toward  three  o'clock  Joe  was  again  dancing 
with  Quinn's  Aggy,  and  as  the  caller-out 
chanted  : 

"  Swing  that  girl,  that  pretty  little  girl, 
That  girl  you  left  behind  you  !  " 

he  advanced  toward  her  with  an  air  of  mock 
gallantry.  At  the  same  moment  Bub  Quinn 
stalked  into  the  middle  of  the  set,  a  sombrero 
planted  firmly  on  his  head,  a  long  cowhide 
whip  in  his  hand.  He  seized  Aggy  by  the 
arm  with  a  grip  that  must  have  hurt  her,  and 
said,  "I'm  going  home  now ;  you  can  do  as 
vou  £ please."  A  pistol-shot  could  not 


Bt  tbe  fceitb  TCancb 


have  made  half  the  sensation  caused  by  this 
breach  of  etiquette  ;  indeed,  it  would  not  have 
been  half  so  unprecedented.  Aggy  turned  with 
a  startled  defiance,  but  at  sight  of  Quinn's  face 
she  recoiled. 

"I'm  all  ready  to  go,"  she  said  sullenly  ;  and 
too  thoroughly  cowed  to  cast  even  a  parting 
glance  at  Joe,  she  hurried  away  to  get  ready 
for  her  twenty-mile  drive.  Joe,  meanwhile, 
with  perfect  composure,  provided  himself  with 
another  partner,  and  the  dance  went  on.  And 
so  the  thunder-cloud  had  withdrawn,  and  the 
bolt  had  not  fallen. 

It  was  not  until  the  gray  dawn  was  in  the 
sky  that  the  last  of  the  revellers  drove  through 
the  cow-yard,  and  out  across  the  prairie  to 
meet  the  rising  sun. 

By  the  time  a  second  dawn  had  come  the 
daily  routine  at  the  Keith  ranch  was  running 
in  its  accustomed  grooves.  The  cows  had 
already  been  milked,  yesterday's  butter  already 
packed  for  shipment,  and  Joe,  surrounded  by 
bustling  men  and  barking  dogs,  was  attending 
to  the  departure  of  the  milk-carts  for  the  town . 
The  Keith  brothers  had  a  young  but  thriving 
dairy-trade,  and  Joe  was  a  great  success  in  his 
character  of  "  boss." 


u8  fl>eafc  ant)  iprafrfe 


In  a  field  bordering  upon  the  highway,  a 
mile  away  from  the  ranch-house,  Lem  Keith 
was  plowing.  There  was  something  about 
this  pastoral  labor  which  was  peculiarly  con 
genial  to  L,em  ;  perhaps  because  he  did  it  well. 
Not  one  of  the  ranch  ' '  hands  ' '  could  guide 
the  plow  with  such  precision  through  the  loose 
prairie  soil.  Certainly,  very  few  of  them  would 
have  taken  the  trouble  to  set  up  a  stake  at  the 
end  of  the  furrow  with  a  flying  bit  of  red  flan 
nel  to  steer  by.  I^em  had  the  habit  of  plowing 
with  his  eyes  fixed  upon  the  stake,  his  shoul 
ders  slightly  stooping.  Yet  the  sense  of  what 
was  going  on  in  the  sky  and  on  the  prairie  was 
never  lost.  To-day  the  sun  rose  as  clear  as  a 
bell,  flooding  the  fields  with  gold.  lyem  was 
plowing  from  east  to  west,  a  quarter-mile  fur 
row.  Whether  he  faced  the  mountains,  answer 
ing  the  sunrise  with  a  crimson  glow,  or  the 
yellow  prairie  sea,  with  bold  buttes  standing 
out  upon  it  like  rock-bound  islands,  he  could 
not  go  amiss.  His  eye  met  nothing,  his 
thoughts  touched  upon  nothing,  which  could 
jar  upon  his  peaceful  mood.  The  horses 
plodded  steadily  on  with  hanging  heads ;  the 
plow  responded  like  a  live  thing  to  his  guid 
ance  ;  he  knew  that  the  long  narrow  furrow 
he  was  leaving  behind  him  was  as  straight  as 


Bt  tbe  Ifceftb  Iftancb 


the  wake  of  a  boat  in  still  water.  After  all, 
ranch  life  was  a  fine  thing.  A  man  must  be 
the  better  for  breathing  such  air  ;  a  man  must 
be  the  wiser  for  living  so  close  to  good  old 
Mother  Karth  ;  a  man  must  be — hark  !  Was 
that  Joe's  pony  galloping  across  the  field  ?  I^em 
turned.  No ;  the  pony  was  a  strange  one. 
And  the  rider  ? 

Bub  Quinn  had  leaped  to  the  ground  not  ten 
feet  from  him.  He  had  flung  the  rein  over  the 
neck  of  his  steaming  bronco  ;  but  he  himself 
was  as  calm  and  as  cool  as  though  he  had  not 
ridden  twenty  miles  before  sunrise  at  a  break 
neck  gallop. 

"I've  come  to  settle  accounts  with  you, 
mister, ' '  Quinn  remarked  in  a  drawling  voice. 

If  the  fellow  had  raged  and  cursed,  if  he  had 
seemed  to  be  in  a  passion,  if  his  fists  had  been 
clenched,  or  the  muscles  of  his  face  set,  it 
would  not  have  been  so  appalling.  But  this 
deadly  composure,  the  careless  indifference  with 
which  .he  held  his  pistol  in  his  right  hand,  while 
his  left  hung  loosely  at  his  side,  was  more  than 
terrifying  ;  it  was  fairly  blood-curdling. 

L,em's  hands  had  let  the  reins  drop,  and  the 
horses  had  gone  plodding  on,  the  plow  lurch 
ing  and  swaying  at  their  heels. 

For  an  instant  Item's  brain  whirled. 


120  jpeafc  and  fcrairie 


Swing  that  girl,  that  pretty  little  girl, 
That£7>/  you  left  behind  you  ! 

His  brain  seemed  to  be  whirling  to  the  tune 
of  that  jingle. 

"If  you  've  got  anything  to  say,"  drawled 
Quinn,  fingering  the  trigger,  the  pistol  pointed 
at  Item's  forehead — "if  you  've  got  anything 
to  say,  now's  your  chance.  Sorry  I  can't 
allow  you  time  to  make  a  will,"  he  added 
facetiously,  "  but  I  've  got  to  get  back  to  my 
work." 

Item's  brain  was  clear  now.  There  were  no 
more  jingles  in  it.  Nothing  was  there  but  an 
overwhelming  conviction  that,  if  the  man  did 
not  shoot  quickly,  Joe  might  arrive,  and  show 
Quinn  his  mistake.  That  must  not  be.  Joe 
was  too  fine  a  fellow  to  end  like  this — like 
this  ! 

lyem  Keith  was  shuddering  from  head  to 
foot,  and  his  lips  were  stiff  and  blue,  yet  there 
was  an  odd,  masterful  ring  in  his  voice  as  he 
cried,  "  Make  haste,  will  you,  and  shoot !  " 

A  shot  rang  out,  and  Lem  fell,  pierced,  not 
by  Bub  Quinn' s  bullet,  but  by  the  living  hor 
ror  of  death.  On  the  furrows  beside  him  Bub 
Quinn  lay  stretched,  with  blood  oozing  from 
his  right  shoulder. 

That  shot  of  Joe  Keith's,  as  his  pony  tore 


Bt  tbe  Ikeltb  IRancb  121 


across  the  plowed  field,  was  long  talked  of  on 
the  prairie.  The  echo  was  still  ringing  in  his 
ears  when  he  sprang  to  the  ground,  and  knelt 
beside  his  brother,  searching  for  a  wound.  He 
could  find  none.  He  pressed  his  hand  to  Item's 
heart ;  his  own  pulse  was  pounding  so  that  he 
could  feel  no  other  motion.  He  lifted  his 
brother's  head  and  laid  it  against  his  own 
breast ;  he  loosened  his  shirt  and  chafed  his 
hands.  The  sun  shone  straight  into  the  white 
face,  and  the  eyelids  moved. 

"  Lem  !  Dear  old  pal  !  Speak  !  Do  speak  !  " 

Item's  consciousness  returned  slowly,  reluc 
tantly  ;  but  he  knew  his  brother's  voice. 

"  Joe  !  "  he  muttered  ;  "  Joe  !  " 

He  made  an  effort  to  look  about  him  ;  and 
first  his  eyes  followed  vaguely  the  wanderings 
of  Quinn's  bronco,  which  had  strayed  far 
afield,  and  he  strove  feebly  to  account  for  the 
pang  that  the  sight  gave  him.  Suddenly  his 
consciousness  adjusted  itself,  as  a  lock  falls  into 
place.  He  turned  his  eyes  on  Quinn,  lying 
where  he  had  fallen,  the  blood  still  flowing 
from  his  wound  ;  and  then  he  knew  that  he 
himself  had  only  swooned.  0 

He  sat  upright,  clasping  his  knees  with  his 
two  hands,  and  Joe  stood  over  him,  tenderly 
brushing  the  earth  from  his  shoulder.  At  last 


freafc  anfc  iprafrie 


spoke,  while  a  dark  flush  mounted  slowly 
up  into  his  temples. 

"Joe  !  "  he  said,  "  I  'm  not  hurt.  You  may 
as  well  despise  me.  I  am  a  coward." 

A  look  went  across  Joe's  face,  half-assenting, 
half-indulgent. 

' '  Never  mind,  old  boy,"  he  said,  with  patron 
izing  good- will ;  "we  can't  all  be  cut  after 
the  same  pattern.  " 

He  extended  his  hand  to  help  his  brother 
to  his  feet.  A  movement  caused  him  to  turn. 
Quinn  had  gathered  strength  to  speak.  He 
was  leaning  on  his  left  elbow,  staring  at  the 
two  brothers.  His  face  was  ghastly,  but  his 
voice  had  lost  none  of  its  drawling  scorn  as 
he  said  to  Joe,  slowly  and  distinctly,  ' '  You 
in-fernal  idiot  !  " 

Then  a  great  light  broke  in  upon  Joe  Keith's 
mind,  and  he  knew  the  truth. 


V. 


RUMPKTY   CASK. 

\17HKN  Sandoria  is  snowbound  it  is  not  so 
very  much  quieter,  even  in  its  outer 
aspect,  than  at  any  other  time  ;  for  the 
monotony  of  snow  is  no  more  complete  than 
the  monotony  of  yellow-gray  prairie.  Kven 
when,  at  rare  intervals,  the  snow  covers  the 
fences,  it  is  no  characteristic  landmark  which 
is  thus  obliterated  ;  no  picturesque  rustic  bars 
are  thus  lost  to  the  landscape,  no  irregular  and 
venerable  stone  walls.  At  the  best  a  prairie 
fence  offers  nothing  more  distinctive  to  the 
view  than  a  succession  of  scrawny  upright 
stakes  connected  by  wires  invisible  at  a  few 
rods'  distance. 

One  feature  Sandoria  boasts,  to  be  sure, 
which  lends  a  certain  distinction  to  the  land 
scape  at  every  season  :  namely,  a  long  line  of 
cottonwood-trees  following  the  course  of  a  half 
hearted  stream  known  as  "  the  creek."  The 
123 


124  ipeafc  anfc  prairie 


water-supply  is  but  a  grudging  one,  yet  it  has 
proved  sufficient  not  only  to  induce  the  growth 
of  cottonwoods,  but  to  raise  the  tiny  collection 
of  houses  known  as  Sandoria  to  the  rank  and 
dignity  of  a  county-seat.  For  who  could  doubt 
the  future  growth  and  prosperity  of  a  prairie 
town  rejoicing  in  the  unique  advantage  of  a 
watercourse  ? 

There  is,  however,  in  the  modern  scheme 
of  things,  one  agent  more  potent  than  running 
water,  and  that  is  the  arbitrary,  omnipotent, 
indispensable  railroad  ;  and  the  railroad  in  its 
erratic  course  saw  fit  to  give  the  cold  shoulder 
to  the  ambitious  little  county-seat,  left  it  ten 
miles  to  the  eastward,  and  then  went  zigzag 
ging  up  to  Denver  with  a  conscience  as  dead 
as  that  of  the  corporation  whose  creature  it 
was. 

Sandoria,  unable  to  retaliate,  took  its  re 
verses  philosophically,  and  straightway  fell 
into  a  profound  slumber,  from  which  it  is 
thoroughly  aroused  but  once  a  year.  Once  a 
year,  in  the  depth  of  winter,  the  much-injured 
county-seat  asserts  its  rightful  dignity  ;  for 
once  a  year  the  court  convenes  within  its  bor 
ders,  and  then  the  whole  county  becomes  a 
meek  tributary  to  its  proper  head.  With  indis 
putable  authority  the  citizens  of  the  two  up- 


IRumpetE  Case  125 


start  railroad  towns  are  summoned  as  jurors  ; 
ranchman  and  cowboy  from  all  the  country 
side  make  daily  trips  in  the  service  of  the  law 
to  the  neglected  little  county-seat,  leaving,  as 
is  but  just,  many  a  ponderous  silver  dollar  in 
"sample-room"  or  "store."  At  such  times 
the  visitors  admit  that  Sandoria  is  a  snug  lit 
tle  place,  and  the  new  frame  court-house  a 
credit  to  the  county,  only  why  did  they  build 
a  town  where  you  can't  see  the  mountains? 
Then  the  Sandorians  reply  that  from  the  slight 
elevation  west  of  the  town  there  is  a  view  of 
the  Peak  itself, — neither  critic  nor  apologist 
taking  into  consideration  how  rarely  men  and 
women  ascend  their  little  hills  to  contemplate 
the  wider  glories  of  life. 

To-day  the  court  was  sitting,  and  the  town 
rejoiced.  Every  man,  woman,  and  child  felt 
•  the  pleasing  exhilaration  of  knowing  that 
something  was  going  forward.  The  square 
two-story  false  fronts  of  the  peak-roofed  build 
ings  looked  with  one-eyed  approval  upon  the 
thronging  men  and  women,  horses  and  dogs, 
enlivening  the  single  street  of  the  town.  A 
fervent  sun  shone  gratefully  upon  the  loungers 
in  front  of  the  court-house,  where  the  snow 
was  trodden  to  the  solid  consistency  of  a  pave 
ment.  The  noon  recess  was  nearly  over,  and 


ipeafc  anD  jprafrfe 


all  were  waiting  for  the  judge  and  his  galaxy 
of  legal  lights. 

Ed  Rankin,  a  young  ranchman  from  over 
beyond  Kmmaville,  finding  himself  among 
strangers,  and  being  as  shy  as  a  coyote,  turned 
in  at  the  court-house  door,  and  was  making  his 
way  toward  the  big  air-tight  stove,  when  he 
observed  that  the  room  was  not  empty,  as  he 
supposed  it  would  be.  In  a  remote  corner  sat 
a  sorry-looking  group,  a  woman  and  three 
children,  their  shrinking  figures  thinly  clad, 
their  eyes,  red  with  crying  or  exposure,  glanc 
ing  apprehensively  from  side  to  side.  The 
youngest  of  the  group  was  a  boy  of  ten  ;  he, 
like  all  the  others,  had  the  look  of  a  hunted 
creature. 

Rankin  walked  across  the  room,  his  footsteps 
muffled  by  the  sawdust  with  which  the  floor 
was  plentifully  strewn.  Yet,  soft  as  his  tread, 
was,  the  four  shivering  creatures  were  visibly 
startled  by  it.  The  young  ranchman  passed 
within  "  the  bar  "  and  stood  with  his  back  to 
the  stove.  He  tried  to  whistle,  but  he  could 
not  do  it.  He  looked  about  the  room,  seeking 
some  object  to  divert  his  thoughts.  Bare  walls 
and  rows  of  empty  benches  outside  the  bar  ; 
within  that  mystic  boundary  all  the  usual  fur 
nishings  of  the  immediate  precincts  of  justice. 


Vumpetg  Case  127 

Three  days'  steadfast  contemplation  of  these 
humble  stage-properties  had  pretty  well  ex 
hausted  their  interest,  and  Rankin's  atten 
tion  again  wandered  to  the  group  in  the 
corner.  The  more  the  dry  scorching  heat  of 
the  stove  penetrated  -his  own  person  the  colder 
the  woman  and  children  looked.  At  last  he 
blurted  out,  in  the  manner  peculiar  to  him 
when  suffering  from  embarrassment,  ' '  Say, 
ma'am,  why  don't  you  come  and  get  warm  ?  " 

The  woman  started  and  looked  over  her 
shoulder  before  she  answered. 

"  I  guess  we  'd  rather  stay  where  we  are," 
she  said. 

Incapable  of  withstanding  such  a  rebuff, 
Rankin  slouched  across  the  room  and  stood  in 
the  open  door- way.  A  three-seated  ranch- 
wagon,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  ill-matched  but 
brisk  little  broncos,  was  just  coming  along  the 
street.  The  heavy  wheels  creaked  and  groaned 
over  the  snow,  and  then  stopped  before  the 
court-house.  The  whole  "court,"  which  was 
sojourning  with  a  well-to-do  ranchman  a  couple 
of  miles  out  of  town,  had  arrived,  plentifully 
wrapped  up  in  mufflers  of  every  color  of  the 
rainbow.  As  judge  and  lawyers  descended 
before  the  temple  of  justice,  it  was  curious  to 
observe  how,  in  spite  of  bemufHered  heads  and 


128  peafc  anD  prairie 


crimson  noses,  these  representatives  of  a  differ 
ent  civilization  contrasted  with  the  prairie 
people.  There  was  the  grave,  keen-eyed 
judge,  of  humane  and  dignified  bearing  ;  there 
was  the  district  attorney,  shrewd  and  alert,  a 
rising  man  ;  and  there  were  lawyers  from  the 
city  of  Springtown  :  all  this  ability  and  train 
ing  placed  at  the  service  of  the  remote  little 
prairie  community. 

"  What 's  on  this  afternoon,  judge  ?  "  asked 
Merriam  the  store-keeper,  with  the  well-bred 
familiarity  of  a  prominent  citizen. 

' '  The  Rumpety  case,  I  believe. ' ' 

"  Not  much  good,  I  suppose." 

"  I  'm  afraid  not,"  said  the  judge,  glancing 
as  he  passed  at  the  shivering  woman  and 
children.  "I  wonder  if  they  have  had  any 
dinner,"  he  queried,  with  sudden  solicitude. 

"Yes.  My  wife  looked  after  that.  She 
took  'em  over  a  mess  of  stuff.  They  looked 
scared  of  their  lives  to  eat  it,  but  it 's  safe  inside 
of 'em  now."  And  the  kind,  red-faced  store 
keeper  hugged  himself  visibly  at  the  thought. 

The  court  assembled. 

Within  the  bar  a  group  of  chairs  had  already 
been  taken  possession  of  by  the  dames  and 
belles  of  Sandoria  and  the  neighboring  ranches, 
to  whom  court- week  is  the  equivalent  of  carni- 


Cbe  IRumpetg  Case  129 

val,  opera,  or  races  in  more  favored  regions ; 
and  where,  indeed,  could  a  more  striking 
drama  be  presented  for  their  delectation  than 
here,  where  friends  and  neighbors  played  the 
leading  parts  ? 

The  court  assembled  ;  lawyers  and  stenogra 
pher  took  their  places  ;  the  clerk  stood  in 
readiness  ;  the  judge  mounted  the  bench  ;  and 
lo  !  the  historic  dignity  of  a  court  of  justice  had 
descended  upon  that  rude  stage,  and  all  was 
ready  for  whatever  comedy  or  tragedy  might 
be  to  enact  upon  it. 

The  judge,  referring  to  the  list,  announced 
that  the  next  case  would  be  "  The  people  of 
the  State  of  Colorado  against  Dennis  Rumpety. ' ' 
Then,  being  called,  Dennis  Rumpety  walked 
down  the  court-room  and  passed  within  the  bar. 

The  man  looked  fifty  or  thereabouts  ;  a 
short,  thick-set  figure,  with  a  large  head 
covered  with  thick  iron-gray  hair.  The 
smooth-shaven  face  was  a  peculiar  one,  being 
broad  in  its  outline,  with  the  features,  espe 
cially  the  eyes,  small  and  close  together.  The 
short,  bushy  eyebrows  met  above  a  fine,  clean- 
cut  nose  ;  the  jaws  were  heavy  and  brutal  ; 
yet  the  menace  of  the  face  was  not  in  these, 
but  in  the  thin  straight  lips  which  closed  like 
the  shears  of  Fate.  A  cruel  smile  gathered 


i3o  ipeafc  anD  prairie 

about  the  lips  as  he  answered  the  questions  of 
the  court.  There  was  something  peculiarly 
incongruous  in  the  jovial,  happy-go-lucky 
name  to  which  this  man  answered. 

"Mr.  Rumpety,"  the  judge  asked,  "have 
you  provided  yourself  with  legal  advice  ? ' ' 

"  No,  your  honor,"  the  man  replied,  with  a 
strong  north-country  brogue.  "No,  sorr  ! 
I  've  got  no  use  for  the  laryers." 

"You  are  prepared,  then,  to  argue  your 
own  case  ? ' ' 

"  I  lave  me  case  in  the  hands  of  me  fahmily. 
Their  testimony  will  clear  me  from  the  false 
accusations  of  me  innimies.  If  thim  as " 

"  That  will  do,  Mr.  Rumpety." 

4 '  If  thim  as  are — 

"Mr.  Rumpety,  that  will  do." 

The  judge  invariably  spoke  in  a  low  tone  of 
voice,  but  it  was  not  often  that  he  had  to 
repeat  himself ;  the  voice  of  authority  has  a 
way  of  making  itself  heard. 

Rumpety  locked  his  lips  again  and  took  his 
seat.  The  jury  was  called,  Ed  Rankin's  name 
among  the  first. 

Rankin  had  not  heard  a  word  about  the 
Rumpety  case,  yet  the  nature  of  it  was  as  clear 
to  him  as  daylight.  This  brute  was  up  for 
cruelty  to  those  four  shivering  creatures  on  the 


Gbe  IRumpetE  Caee  131 


bench  in  the  corner,  and  they  would  never 
dare  testify  against  their  persecutor.  In  all 
those  abject  countenances  there  was  not  one 
ray  of  courage  visible. 

Now  began  the  process  of  weeding  out  the 
jury,  which,  when  it  came  his  turn,  Rumpety 
performed  with  a  free  hand.  The  prosecution 
having  dismissed  some  half-dozen  men  and 
"passed"  the  jury,  the  defendant  began  his 
inquisition.  He  asked  no  unnecessary  ques 
tions,  gave  no  reasons  for  his  prejudices,  but 
with  unalterable  decision  declared,  ' '  I  won't 
have  that  man  on  the  jury  at  all  !  "  or,  "I 
don't  want  him  :  he  may  go." 

Rankin  was  among  the  first  to  be  thus  sum 
marily  rejected,  and  he  joined  the  crowd  out 
side  the  bar,  only  half  contented  with  his 
release.  He  would  have  liked  "  to  convict 
that  beast." 

It  was  not  much  of  a  compliment  to  be 
retained  on  Rumpety 's  jury.  As  often  as,  in 
his  cursory  examination,  he  came  upon  an 
ignorant  or  brutish  face,  a  complacent  smile 
played  about  the  thin  lips,  and  he  said,  "  That 
man '11  do.  He'll  do." 

And  now  the  trial  began.  People  from  the 
town  of  Wolverton  testified  that  the  boy  Vic 
tor — poor  little  defeated  Victor  ! — had  appeared 


132  ipeafc  anfc  iprairle 


in  the  street  fleeing  from  his  home,  four  miles 
away,  crying  that  his  father  was  going  to  kill 
him.  The  child's  ear  had  been  frightfully 
bruised  and  swollen,  and  there  were  unmis 
takable  marks  of  ill  usage  upon  him.  The  man 
Rumpety's  barbarity  was  notorious  on  all  the 
countryside,  and  this  was  the  third  successive 
year  he  had  been  up  before  the  court.  It  had 
never  been  possible  to  secure  a  conviction, 
owing  to  the  dogged  persistence  of  his  victims 
in  perjuring  themselves  in  his  favor. 

As  one  after  another  of  the  trembling  family 
shuffled  up  to  the  witness- seat  and  swore,  with 
hanging  head  and  furtive  eyes,  that  Dennis 
Rumpety  was  a  kind  husband  and  father,  who 
never  punished  them  "more  than  was  just," 
this  model  parent  sat  with  gleaming  eyes  and 
an  evil  smirk,  resting  his  case  upon  the  "  testi 
mony  of  his  fahmily."  If,  occasionally,  the 
witness  hesitated,  Rumpety  would  lift  his  eye 
brows  or  make  a  slight  movement  which  sent 
the  blood  into  the  pale  cheek  of  woman  or 
child  and  an  added  tremor  into  the  faint  voice. 
More  than  once  the  district  attorney  sprang 
to  his  feet  and  cried,  "Your  honor,  I  object 
to  this  man's  intimidating  the  people's  wit 
nesses  ; ' '  but  the  intimidation  was  too  subtle 
to  seize  hold  upon. 


ttbe  IRumpetg  Case    •  133 


Ed  Rankin  wondered  what  would  happen  if 
somebody  should  hit  the  wretch  a  whack  over 
the  head  every  time  he  raised  an  eyebrow. 
Somehow  it  struck  him  that  the  law  was  hardly 
equal  to  tackling  "that  kind." 

The  cross-examination  brought  out  no  new 
evidence. 

The  district  attorney  was  especially  persis 
tent  with  the  boy,  the  immediate  victim  in  this 
instance. 

' '  Victor, ' '  he  said,  ' '  state  to  the  j  ury  why  you 
accused  your  father  of  abusing  you  and  want 
ing  to  kill  you,  if  it  wasn't  true." 

The  boy  hesitated. 

"Don't  be  afraid  to  speak  the  truth.  He 
sha'n't  hurt  you." 

But  the  boy  knew  better. 

"  Sure  I  lied,"  he  said. 

' '  And  what  did  you  lie  for  ?  " 

"  Because  I  was  mad." 

' '  But  what  made  you  get  mad  with  such  a 
kind  father?" 

' '  Because  he  came  into  the  cellar  and  found 
fault  wid  me  about  the  potatoes." 

1 '  Had  he  reason  to  find  fault  with  you  ?  ' ' 

The  boy  looked  at  his  father  :  one  look  was 
enough. 

"  Yes,  sorr.     I  had  an  ugly  fit  on." 


134  I>eafc  ant>  ftraitfe 


Poor  little  shrinking  shivering  wretch,  with 
his  cowed  figure  and  trembling  lips  !  It  is 
safe  to  say  that  an  ' '  ugly  fit ' '  seized  upon 
every  person  listening  to  that  futile  confession. 

Ed  Rankin  felt  the  blood  boil  in  his  veins. 
He  glanced  at  Myra  Beckwith,  sitting  among 
the  audience  within  the  bar.  She  was  leaning 
forward  with  her  hands  clasped  tightly,  watch 
ing  the  boy.  There  were  tears  in  her  eyes,  and 
Rankin  blessed  her  for  them. 

It  was  clear  that  the  district  attorney  him 
self  was  a  good  deal  wrought  upon,  for  his 
manner  grew  quieter  every  minute.  He  sat 
with  his  head  slightly  forward,  looking  out 
from  under  his  brows  straight  into  the  misera 
ble  little  face  before  him.  His  questions  came 
short  and  incisive. 

"  State  to  the  jury  again  how  you  hurt  your 
ear." 

"Sure  I  fell  off  a  horse." 

"  Hm  !  You  fell  off  a  horse  and  lit  on  your 
ear?" 

"Yes,  sorr." 

' '  And  this  ingenious  tumble  took  place  be 
fore  the  racket  in  the  cellar  ?  ' ' 

' 'Yes,  sorr." 

"  How  long  before?" 

' '  I  guess  about  a  week. ' ' 


ffiumpetg  Case  135 


' '  Your  mother  testified  that  it  happened  the 
same  morning. ' ' 

"  Yes,  sorr.     It  was  the  same  marning." 

The  poor  little  chap's  answers  were  getting 
almost  inaudible.  He  looked  spent  with 
misery  and  apprehension.  He  gave  no  sign 
of  tears.  His  wan,  pinched  little  face  looked 
as  if  he  had  cried  so  much  in  his  short  life 
that  there  was  no  longer  any  relief  in  it.  He 
was  soon  dismissed,  and  went  shuffling  back  to 
his  cold  corner. 

The  woman  and  girls  proved  no  more  avail 
able  for  purposes  of  j  ustice  than  the  boy.  Their 
testimony  was  perfectly  consistent  and  abso 
lutely  unshakable  ;  it  had  been  thoroughly 
beaten  into  them,  that  was  clear. 

When  it  came  time  for  Rumpety  to  plead  his 
own  cause  before  the  jury  he  proved  quite  equal 
to  the  situation.  He  planted  himself  before 
them  and  harangued  them  like  any  third-rate 
criminal  lawyer. 

"I  tell  you,  gen'lemen,"  he  declared,  "it's 
no  small  b'y's  job  to  keep  that  fahmily  in  ar- 
der  ! ' '  and  he  proceeded  to  describe  them  as  a 
cantankerous  lot,  to  be  ruled  only  by  that  ideal 
justice  tempered  by  mercy  which  he  was  ap 
parently  a  master  in  dispensing. 

At  the  last  he  waxed  pathetic,  and,  in  a  tear- 


136  ipeafc  anD  prairie 


ful  voice,  somewhat  at  odds  with  his  dry, 
wicked  little  eyes,  he  cried,  "  I  've  got  a  row 
to  hoe,  that  if  there  was  a  lot  of  men  in  it 
they  'd  have  hanged  themselves  from  a  rafter  ! ' ' 

With  which  magnificent  climax  and  a  pro 
found  bow  and  flourish,  he  took  his  seat,  and 
assumed  a  pose  of  invulnerable  righteousness 
from  which  no  invectives  nor  innuendoes  of  the 
prosecuting  attorney  could  move  him.  He 
had  rested  his  case  on  the  testimony  of  his 
"fahmily,"  and  he  knew  his  jury  too  well  to 
have  much  anxiety  about  their  verdict. 

The  lamps  had  been  lighted  long  ago,  and 
the  early  winter  evening  had  set  in.  The 
court  took  a  recess,  waiting  the  verdict  of  the 
jury.  This  was  the  last  case  on  the  trial 
docket  for  that  day. 

Rumpety  was  standing,  broad  and  unblush 
ing,  before  the  stove,  whither,  in  obedience  to 
his  commands,  his  wife  and  children  had  also 
repaired.  With  true  prairie  courtesy  the  men 
had  placed  chairs  for  the  Rumpety  "fahmily," 
and  an  unsuccessful  attempt  was  made  to  con 
verse  with  them  on  indifferent  topics. 

Rumpety  stood,  plainly  gloating  over  his 
victims,  the  queer  gleam  in  his  eyes  growing 
more  intense  every  minute. 

Mrs.  Rumpety  did  not  share  her  husband's 


TRumpetg  Case  137 

confidence  in  the  issue.  Once,  when  the  judge 
spoke  a  kind  word  to  her,  she  muttered,  "  Ach, 
your  honor  i  don't  let  'em  put  the  costs  on  us  ! 
Don't  let  'em  put  the  costs  on  us  !  "  and  Ran- 
kin,  standing  by,  realized  with  a  pang  that 
even  this  misery  could  be  increased. 

The  situation  was  oppressive.  Rankin  saun 
tered  out  of  the  room  and  out  of  the  court-house, 
closing  the  door  behind  him.  The  air  was  in 
tensely  cold  ;  the  stars  glittered  sharply.  He 
liked  it  outside  ;  he  felt  the  same  relief  and 
exhilaration  which  he  had  experienced  when  he 
first  took  possession  of  his  "  claim,"  three  years 
before,  and  felt  himself  lord  over  the  barren 
sweep  of  prairie.  There  had  been  hardship  in 
it ;  the  homely  comforts  of  his  father's  little 
down-east  farm  were  lacking,— but  it  was  free 
dom.  Freedom  !  It  used  to  seem  to  Rankin,  be 
fore  he  knew  Myra  Beck  with,  that  freedom  was 
all  he  wanted  in  life.  This  shy,  awkward,  long- 
limbed  fellow  had  desired  nothing  so  much  as 
room  enough,  and  he  had  wrested  it  from  Fate. 

He  wondered,  as  he  stood  out  under  the  stars, 
why  Mrs.  Rumpety  and  her  children  did  not 
run  away.  The  world  was  big  enough  and  to 
spare.  They  would  probably  starve,  to  be 
sure ;  but  starvation  was  infinitely  better  than 
bondage. 


138  peak  anfc  prairie 


The  door  at  his  elbow  closed  sharply,  and  a 
voice  cried, — 

"Hullo,  Rank  !  did  you  know  that  those 
blamed  idiots  had  acquitted  him  ? ' ' 

"  I  knew  they  would."  Rankin  answered, 
with  a  jerk  which  betokened  suppressed  emo 
tion. 

''There's  nothing  left  now  but  lynching," 
his  friend  continued.  It  was  Ray  Dolliber, 
one  of  the  more  reckless  spirits. 

Rankin  grunted  in  a  non-committal  manner. 

"  Say,  Rank,  would  you  lend  a  hand  ?  " 

"  I  guess  not,"  Rankin  replied  slowly,  as  if 
deliberating  the  question. 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  never  did  believe  in  lynching." 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  lynching?  " 

"  'T  ain't  fair  play.  Masked  men,  and  a  lot 
of  'em,  onto  one  feller." 

Dolliber  waxed  sarcastic. 

"  P'raps  you  think  it 's  fair  play  for  a  great 
brute  of  a  man  to  bully  a  woman  and  six 
children." 

"P'raps  I  do,"  said  Rankin,  still  deliber 
ating,  "but  I  guess  't ain't  likely." 

Another  man  came  out  of  the  court-house, 
leaving  the  door  open  behind  him.  They 
could  see  Rumpety  pulling  on  a  thick  overcoat 


TRumpetg  Case  139 


and  winding  his  ears  and  throat  in  a  heavy 
muffler.  "  Come  along,"  he  swaggered,  with 
a  flourish  of  the  arms  ;  and  woman  and  chil 
dren,  unencumbered  by  other  wraps  than  those 
they  had  worn  all  day,  followed  abjectly  and 
made  their  way  after  him  to  the  shed  where 
the  team  was  tied. 

'  '  I  say,  Dolliber,  did  they  say  it  was  four 
teen  miles  to  their  ranch  ?  '  ' 

"Yes." 

"South,  wasn't  it?" 

"Yes." 

"  They  '11  have  the  wind  in  their  faces." 

"You  bet  !" 

A  few  minutes  later  the  Rumpety  wagon  went 
creaking  and  groaning  past  the  court-house. 

Ed  Rankin  stepped  inside  and  got  his  leather 
jacket  and  woollen  muffler.  He  met  the  jury 
straggling  out  with  the  crestfallen  air  of  men 
conscious  of  an  inglorious  performance.  The 
judge  and  the  district  attorney  stood  just 
within  the  door,  waiting  for  the  ranch-  wagon. 

'  '  They  say  ,  '  '  said  the  district  attorney,  '  '  that 
Rumpety  never  does  a  stroke  of  work." 

'  '  Saves  up  his  strength  for  bullying  his  fam 
ily,  '  '  the  judge  rejoined.  '  '  He  takes  good  care 
of  himself.  Did  you  see  how  warmly  he  was 
dressed?" 


140  ipeafc  anfc  prairie 


"  Yes,  curse  him  !  " 

' '  It  would  be  a  mercy  if  the  others  were  to 
freeze  to  death  on  the  way  home." 

"Seems  likely  enough,  too;  but  it  would 
be  rather  hard  on  the  three  little  brats  waiting 
at  the  ranch  for  their  mother." 

Rankin,  mean  while,  had  got  himself  equipped 
for  his  long  ride. 

There  was  to  be  a  dance  in  the  court-house 
that  evening,  and  some  men  were  sweeping 
the  sawdust  into  a  corner  and  setting  the 
benches  against  the  wall. 

"Ain't  you  goin'  to  stay  for  the  dance, 
Ed?"  one  of  them  asked.  "The  girls  are 
all  coming." 

Rankin  felt  himself  blush  ignominiously. 

"  No,"  he  growled.  "  I  've  got  some  work 
to  do  to-night." 

"What,  at  the  ranch?" 

Rankin  paused  to  take  account  with  his 
conscience.  Being  a  down-easter,  he  liked  to 
keep  on  good  terms  with  that  monitor.  But 
conscience  had  no  fault  to  find  as  he  presently 
answered,  "  Yes,  at  the  ranch." 

He  strode  out  of  the  court-house  with  a 
tread  very  different  from  his  usual  slouching 
gait.  Out  in  the  shed  he  found  his  bronco 
sniffing  ruefully  at  an  empty  dinner-bag.  But 


IRumpetE  Case  141 

she  whinnied  pleasantly  at  his  approach.  Five 
minutes  later  horse  and  rider  were  off  at  a 
swinging  pace,  headed,  not  for  their  own 
ranch,  which  lay  twelve  miles  to  the  north 
ward.  Straight  in  the  teeth  of  the  wind  they 
travelled  ;  in  the  teeth  of  the  south  wind,  that 
stung  their  faces  like  a  whip-lash. 

Before  very  long  they  sighted  the  Rumpety 
wagon  showing  plainly  against  the  snow  in 
the  starlight.  The  road  went  most  of  the  way 
down-hill,  and  wagon  and  bronco  made  good 
speed.  The  air  grew  colder  every  minute. 

"About  ten  below,  shouldn't  you  say, 
Pincher?" 

Pincher  tossed  her  tousled  mane  affirmatively. 

They  kept  about  forty  yards  behind  the  team, 
which  went  at  a  steady  rate. 

"  I  say,  Pincher,  the  old  beast  must  be  lay 
ing  it  onto  them  horses,  to  make  'em  go  like 
that. ' ' 

This  time  Pincher  merely  laid  an  ear  back 
in  token  of  sympathy. 

"We'll  give  him  a  worse  trouncing  than 
that,  though.  Eh,  Pincher  ? ' ' 

And  Rankin  fumbled  with  cold  fingers  at 
the  whip-handle  in  his  pocket.  The  reins  lay 
across  Pincher' s  neck.  Rankin  did  not  want 
his  hands  to  get  too  cold  ' '  for  business. ' ' 


142  peafe  anD  prairie 


On  and  on  they  pounded  through  the  snow  ; 
colder  and  colder  it  grew.  There  was  a  shiver 
in  the  stars  themselves,  and  only  the  snow 
looked  warm. 

''If  I  wasn't  so  all-fired  mad,  Pincher,  I 
believe  'twould  seem  kind  o'  cold." 

At  these  words  Pincher  took  a  spurt  and 
had  to  be  held  in,  lest  they  should  overtake 
the  wagon. 

They  had  crossed  the  railroad,  leaving  Wol- 
verton  with  its  handful  of  twinkling  lights  to 
the  eastward,  and  now  a  line  of  the  Peak  was 
gleaming,  a  narrow  white  crescent,  above  the 
long,  low  rise  of  ground  to  the  west.  Once 
they  passed  a  depression  through  which  the 
great  dome  of  snow  towered  in  all  its  grand 
eur  ;  but  that  was  only  for  a  moment.  Ran- 
kin's  heart  beat  high  at  sight  of  it. 

"There  's  a  way  out  of  'most  every  place," 
he  muttered,  below  his  breath. 

The  last  three  miles  of  the  way  the  cold  had 
got  such  a  grip  on  him  that  he  desisted  from 
further  social  amenities.  Pincher  quite  under 
stood  his  silence,  though  she,  with  her  furry 
coat  and  hard  exercise,  was  not  as  near  freez 
ing  as  he. 

At  length  they  perceived,  close  to  the  road,  a 
dim  light  shining  from  a  single  point  in  a  hud- 


Hbe  IRumpetg  Ca0e  143 


died  group  of  buildings.  The  wagon  turned 
into  a  corral,  close  to  a  tumble-down  shanty,  and 
as  Rankin  rode  up  to  the  opening  the  children 
were  just  disappearing  in  at  the  door,  while 
the  woman  slowly  and  painfully  climbed  down 
over  the  wheel.  Rumpety  stood  by,  jeering  at 
her  slow  progress. 

"Come,  horry  a  little,  me  foine  lady," 
Rankin  heard  him  say.  "  Horry,  or  I  '11  come 
and  give  ye  a  lift  ye  '11  not  thank  me  for  !  " 

The  poor  creature's  dress  had  caught  in 
something,  and  she  stood  an  instant  on  the 
hub. 

With  a  sudden  movement  the  brute  raised 
the  long  whip  he  held  in  his  hand  and  gave 
her  a  stinging  blow  across  the  shoulders. 
There  was  a  faint  moan,  a  sound  of  tearing 
cotton,  and  the  woman  fell  in  a  heap  to  the 
ground.  In  another  instant  she  had  scrambled 
to  her  feet  and  fled  limping  into  the  house. 

Ed  Rankin  felt  the  blood  rush  to  his  heart 
and  then  go  tingling  down  into  his  finger-tips  ; 
but  he  made  no  sound  nor  sudden  movement. 
With  his  teeth  set  hard,  his  hand  clutching 
his  cow-hide  whip,  he  got  off  his  horse  and 
stood  on  the  ground. 

"  I  guess  I  '11  wait  till  he  's  given  the  critters 
their  supper,"  he  muttered  in  Pincher's  ear. 


144  Peak  an£>  ipratrie 

"  He  might  forget  to  do  it  after  I  'm  done  with 
him." 

He  stood  looking  into  the  enclosure  while 
Rumpety  unharnessed  ' '  the  critters  ' '  and  put 
them  up  in  an  open  shed. 

The  corral  was  a  comfortless,  tumble-down 
place.  The  outlines  of  the  crazy  huts  and 
sheds  which  enclosed  it  on  three  sides  showed 
clear  in  the  starlight.  A  gaunt  plough-horse 
stood  motionless  in  the  cold  shelter  of  a  skele 
ton  hay-wagon  ;  in  one  corner  a  drinking- 
trough  gleamed,  one  solid  mass  of  ice.  And 
now  across  this  dreary,  God-forsaken  stage 
passed  the  warmly  clad,  stalwart  figure  that 
Fate  was  waiting  for.  Ran  kin  noted  that  he 
held  the  whip  still  in  his  hand  as  he  made  for 
the  door  of  the  cabin. 

Suddenly  Rankin  blocked  his  path. 

"You  cur!" 

The  words  were  flung  like  a  missile  into  the 
face  of  the  brute. 

With  a  cry  of  inarticulate  rage  Rumpety 
raised  his  long  whip,  and  then,  coward  that  he 
was,  let  it  fall. 

Rankin  never  had  a  very  clear  idea  of  what 
happened  next.  Somehow  or  other  he  had 
torn  the  coat  off  the  man's  back,  had  bound 
him  with  the  lasso  to  a  corner  of  the  hay- 


IRumpetg  Case  145 


wagon,  and  was  standing  over  him,  cow-hide 
in  hand,  panting  with  rage  and  the  desire  for 
vengeance.  The  gaunt  horse  had  moved  off 
a  few  paces,  and  stood  like  an  apparition,  gaz 
ing  with  spectral  indifference  at  the  scene. 

Rankin  raised  his  arm  and  brought  the  whip 
lash  whistling  down  upon  the  broad  shoulders. 
There  was  a  strange  guttural  sound,  and  the 
figure  before  him  seemed  to  collapse  and  sink, 
a  dead  weight,  down  into  the  encircling  rope. 
Rankin 's  arm  was  arrested  in  mid-air. 

''Stand  up,  you  hound,  or  I'll  murder 
you  !  "  he  hissed  between  his  teeth. 

But  the  figure  hung  there  like  a  log.  The 
spectral  horse  sniffed  strangely. 

A  swift  horror  seized  upon  Rankin.  He 
grasped  the  heavy  shoulder  and  shook  it 
roughly.  It  was  like  shaking — hush  !  he 
dared  not  think  what  ! 

Rankin  flung  his  whip  to  the  ground,  and 
wildly,  feverishly,  untied  the  rope.  It  was  a 
difficult  thing  to  do,  the  sinking  of  the  body 
having  tightened  the  knots.  At  last  they 
yielded,  and  the  dead  weight  tumbled  in  a 
heap  before  him.  Even  in  his  wild  horror 
Rankin  thought  how  the  woman  had  fallen 
just  so  in  a  heap  on  the  ground  a  few  minutes 
before.  The  thought  put  life  into  his  heart. 


10 


146  ipeaft  an&  ipralrlc 


The  gaunt  horse  had  taken  a  step  forward 
and  was  sniffing  at  that  heap  on  the  ground, 
mouthing  the  limp  trousers  :  a  few  wisps  of  hay 
had  clung  to  them.  Rankin  watched  the  weird 
scene.  He  knew  that  that  was  a  dead  man 
before  him  ;  nothing  could  make  that  surer. 

He  tried  to  lift  the  body  and  carry  it  toward 
the  house  ;  he  could  not  do  it.  It  was  not  the 
weight,  it  was  the  repulsion  that  lamed  him. 

He  stalked  to  the  cabin  and  flung  open  the 
door.  The  woman  crouched  in  a  corner  with 
her  six  children  about  her  ;  seven  pitiful  scared 
faces  were  lifted  to  his.  He  stepped  in  and 
closed  the  door  behind  him. 

"  Dennis  Rumpety  is  dead,"  he  stated,  in  a 
hard,  unnatural  voice.  It  seemed  to  him  as 
if  those  awful  words  must  echo  round  the 
globe,  rousing  all  the  powers  of  the  land 
against  him,  striking  terror  to  the  hearts  at 
home. 

The  woman  glanced  about  her  with  wander 
ing  eyes.  Then  she  shook  her  head. 

"  Dinnis  Rumpety?  Sure  he'll  niver  be 
dead!" 

"  I  tell  you  Dennis  Rumpety  is  dead.  I 
have  killed  him  ! ' ' 

"You!"  she  shrieked.  "The  saints  pre 
serve  ye  ! " 


Cbe  IRumpetg  Case  147 


It  was  a  ghastly  work  to  get  that  dishonored 
body  across  the  corral  while  the  spectral  horse 
came  sniffing  after.  Rankin  wondered  whether 
the  dishonored  soul  could  be  far  away.  He 
wondered  that  the  woman  and  children  did  not 
seem  to  dread  being  left  alone  with — it.  He 
did  not  know  how  futile  ghostly  horrors 
seemed,  as  compared  with  those  horrors  they 
had  thrust  out. 

As  Pincher  bore  him  back  over  the  fourteen 
miles  thither  where  justice  awaited  him,  Ran 
kin  was  a  prey  to  two  alternating  regrets.  At 
one  moment  he  wished  he  had  not  said,  "  I  '11 
murder  you  !  "  In  the  next  turn  of  thought 
he  wished  it  had  been  murder  in  the  first 
degree,  that  the  penalty  might  have  been  death 
rather  than  imprisonment. 

He  did  not  allow  himself  to  think  of  Myra 
Beckwith  ;  his  mind  felt  blood-stained,  no  fit 
place  for  the  thought  of  her.  There,  where 
the  thought  of  her  had  shone  for  months,  a 
steady,  heart-warming  flame,  was  only  a  dull 
desolation  which  he  dared  not  face. 

As  he  rode  up  the  deserted  street  of  Sandoria 
a  strong  desire  possessed  him  to  keep  on  to 
the  north  and  have  one  more  night  of  freedom 
on  his  own  ranch  ;  but  that  would  have  been 
a  cruelty  to  Pincher.  He  put  her  up  in  the 


148  peafc  an£>  prairie 


shed  and  gave  her  the  next  day's  dinner  which 
he  had  brought  with  him  that  morning  in  case 
there  should  be  a  dance  to  keep  him  over-night. 
Then  he  took  a  long,  deep  breath  of  the  icy 
air  and  passed  into  the  court-house. 

Inside,  the  atmosphere  seemed  suffocating. 
The  room  was  so  crowded  that  he  did  not  find 
Myra'  s  face  anywhere.  The  sheriff  was  among 
the  dancers,  but  the  fiddles  were  winding  up 
the  set  with  a  last  prolonged  squeak. 

As  the  scraping  ceased,  Rankin  stood  before 
the  sheriff.  In  the  sudden  pause  of  sound 
and  motion  his  voice  sounded  distinctly 
throughout  the  room. 

"  I  have  just  killed  Dennis  Rumpety,"  he 
said. 

For  ten  seconds  there  was  absolute  silence  ; 
then  a  rough  voice  growled,  "  Thunder  !  But 
you  done  a  good  job  !  " 

Upon  that  everybody  began  talking  at  once, 
and  in  the  midst  of  the  clamor  Ed  Rankin,  the 
man  who  loved  freedom  better  than  life,  was 
formally  placed  under  arrest. 

His  trial  came  off  the  next  day  but  one. 
The  coroner's  inquest  had  shown  death  by 
apoplexy,  caused  probably  by  a  paroxysm  of 
rage.  The  jury  rendered  a  verdict  of  "invol 
untary  manslaughter,"  The  sentence  was  the 


IRumpetE  Case  149 


lowest  the  law  allows  :  namely,  one  day's  im 
prisonment  with  hard  labor. 

This  unlooked-for  clemency  staggered  the 
prisoner.  Oblivious  of  every  fact  but  the  ter 
rible  one  that  Dennis  Rumpety  had  died  by  his 
hand,  he  had  nerved  himself  for  what  he  be 
lieved  would  be  his  death-blow.  The  tension 
had  been  too  great  ;  he  could  not  bear  its  sud 
den  removal. 

"  Say,  your  honor,"  he  cried,  regardless  of 
court  etiquette, — "  say,  your  honor,  couldn't 
you  lay  it  on  a  little  heavier  ?  ' ' 

"  The  court  sees  no  reason  for  altering  its 
decision,"  his  honor  replied,  gravely,  passing 
on  to  the  delivery  of  the  next  sentence. 

But  after  the  court  had  adjourned,  the  judge 
stepped  up  to  the  prisoner  and  said,  kindly,  "  I 
wouldn't  take  it  too  hard,  if  I  were  you,  Ran- 
kin.  We  all  know  that  there  was  no  murder 
in  your  heart." 

' '  Yes,  there  was,  your  honor.  Yes,  there 
was." 

"At  any  rate,  the  man's  death  was  clearly 
not  your  deed.  It  was  the  hand  of  the  Lord 
that  did  it." 

"  I  don't  know,  your  honor,"  Rankin  per 
sisted.  "  It  feels  to  me  as  though  it  was  me 
that  done  it. ' ' 


150  freak  anfc  prairie 


The  judge  and  the  lookers-on  were  puzzled 
by  this  persistency.  It  did  not  seem  in  char 
acter.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life,  Rankin 
felt  the  need  of  words.  The  moral  perplexity 
was  too  great  for  him  to  deal  with  ;  he  was 
reaching  out  for  something  to  take  hold  of,  a 
thing  which  his  self-contained,  crudely  disci 
plined  nature  had  never  craved  before. 

"  It 's  an  awful  thing  to  send  a  soul  to  hell," 
he  muttered. 

Then,  in  his  extremity,  he  felt  a  soft  touch 
upon  his  arm.  Myra  Beck  with  stood  beside 
him. 

"Ed,"  .she  said,  with  the  sweet  seriousness 
which  had  first  attracted  him,  and  now  at  last 
there  was  the  tone  in  her  voice  which  he  would 
have  given  his  life  to  hear, — "  Ed,  think  of  the 
seven  souls  you  have  delivered  out  of  hell  !  I 
was  over  to  see  them  yesterday." 

The  consolation  of  that  voice  and  touch 
calmed  his  troubled  spirit,  restored  him  to  him 
self  ;  the  nightmare  of  the  last  two  days  faded 
and  slid  away.  He  stood  a  moment  in  awk 
ward  silence,  while  Myra's  hand  rested  upon 
his  arm  ;  then,  before  them  all,  he  laid  his  hand 
upon  it,  and,  with  the  solemnity  of  a  priest 
before  the  altar,  he  said,  "  I  guess  it  was  the 
L,ord  that  done  it,  after  all  !  " 


VI. 

THK  I.AMK   GUIvCH   PROFESSOR. 

SIMON  AMBKRIvEY  had  never  been  able 
to  strike  root  in  life,  until,  some  ten 
years  since,  he  found  a  congenial  soil  in  that 
remote  fastness  of  the  Rocky  Mountains 
known  as  Lame  Gulch.  From  the  first  mo 
ment  of  his  arrival  there  it  was  borne  in  upon 
him  that  this  was  the  goal  of  his  long,  appar 
ently  aimless  pilgrimage,  and  he  lost  no  time 
in  securing  to  himself  a  foothold,  by  the  sim 
ple  and  inexpensive  method  of  taking  up  a 
ranch. 

The  land  he  chose  was  higher  up  the  Gulch 
than  any  of  the  neighboring  ranches,  and  all 
that  it  was  rich  in  was  views.  It  ran  up  the 
side  of  a  hill,  seen  from  the  top  of  which,  the 
whole  Rocky  Mountain  Range  had  the  appear 
ance  of  marshalling  itself  in  one  grand,  ex 
haustive  cyclorama.  On  every  hand  were 
snowy  summits  forming  a  titantic  ring  which 


152  ipeafc  an£>  jprafrie 


seemed  to  concentrate  upon  Lame  Gulch  ;  and 
much  of  the  sense  of  aloofness  and  security 
which  was  the  chief  element  in  Amberley's 
content  came  from  the  illusion  which  he  care 
fully  guarded,  that  that  wall  of  giants  really 
was  impenetrable.  He  liked,  too,  to  feel  him 
self  at  a  great  altitude  above  the  lower  world 
where  he  had  so  long  and  vainly  toiled. 

"  Nine  thousand  feet  above  sea-level  !  "  he 
would  assure  himself  in  self-congratulatory 
mood.  "  When  I  come  to  quit,  I  sha'n't  hev 
fur  to  go  !  "  which  confidence  in  the  direction 
his  spirit  was  destined  to  take,  may  fairly  be 
accepted  as  indication  of  a  good  conscience. 

Amberle)^  had  not  married,  and  although  he 
felt  the  omission  to  be  matter  for  regret,  he  had 
never,  as  far  as  his  recollection  served  him, 
found  his  wish  to  do  so  particularized  in  favor 
of  any  one  woman. 

"  No,  I  ain't  never  married,"  he  reluctantly 
admitted,  when  Enoch  Baker,  his  next-door 
neighbor  at  Lame  Gulch,  pressed  the  point. 

Enoch  lived  with  his  wife  just  round  on  the 
other  side  of  Bear  Mountain,  only  three  miles 
away,  and  although  his  now  elderly  consort 
was  reputed  to  be  unamiable, — not  to  say  can 
tankerous, — yet  her  existence,  and  the  exist 
ence  in  the  world  outside,  of  many  children 


Xame  (Bulcb  ftrofeesor  153 


and  grandchildren,  conferred  upon  him  the  en 
viable  dignity  of  a  man  of  famil}^.  He  was  a 
Yankee,  and  his  thirst  for  information  was  not 
to  be  lightly  appeased. 

"  Disapp'inted?"  he  asked,  knocking  the 
ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  and  pulling  out  a  vener 
able  tobacco-pouch,  with  a  view  to  "  fillin' 
her  up ' '  again.  "  Disapp'inted  ? ' ' 

"  Yes  ;  ruther, — bein'  as  I  was  always  fond 
of  children." 

Amberley  was  himself  a  tall,  limp-looking 
down-easter,  with  pleasant,  unsuspicious  eyes, 
and  a  guileless  spirit.  He  used  to  hand  his 
cattle  over  to  Baker  once  a  year,  and  let  him 
drive  them  with  his  own  down  the  long  moun 
tain  road  to  Springtown,  and  it  was  under 
stood  than  he  did  not  inquire  too  curiously  in 
the  matter  of  commissions.  The  stores  and 
fodder  which  Enoch  delivered  over  to  him  in 
exchange,  together  with  a  plausibly  varying 
amount  of  hard  cash,  seemed  to  Simon  an  am 
ple  return  for  the  scrawny  cattle  he  sent  to 
market.  And  Enoch,  for  his  part,  was  always 
willing  to  testify  that  Amberley  was  a  pleasant 
man  to  deal  with. 

11  What  was  she  like?  "  Enoch  inquired,  in 
the  tone  of  a  connoisseur,  transfixing  Amberley 
with  his  shrewd  eyes. 


154  fceafc  anfc  prairie 


"  Don't  know  's  I  could  tell  you,  neighbor. 
I  kind  o'  fancied  the  ones  with  the  snappin' 
black  eyes.  But  I  ruther  guess  some  other 
kind  would  ha'  done  's  well,  when  it  come  to 
the  pint." 

Knoch  raised  his  eyebrows  inquiringly. 

"Wouldn't  ary  one  on  'em  hev  you?"  he 
asked. 

"Never  asked  'em,"  was  the  reply.  "It 
was  this  way,"  Amberley  went  on,  gathering 
himself  together  for  the  unaccustomed  effort 
of  expounding  a  situation.  "  I  never  seemed 
to  feel  to  hev  gumption  enough  to  raise  a 
family." 

Enoch's  countenance  took  on  a  judicial  look. 
"  Yet  you  've  got  a  good  eddication,"  he  .re 
marked,  after  thoughtful  consideration  of  the 
case.  "  You  've  got  book  larnin'  enough  to 
make  your  way." 

"  Wall,  yes  ;  the  eddication  's  stayed  by  me. 

I  ruther  guess  'twas  the   gumption  that  got 
knocked  out.     That  was  at  Antietam." 

"  Did  n't  know  you  was  in  the  war,"  Knoch 
exclaimed,  with  a  visible  accession  of  respect. 

II  Was  you  hit?" 

"  Wall,  yes;  in  the  head.  Iwa'  n't  much 
more  'n  a  youngster,  and  when  they  let  me 
loose  the  doctors  said  I  was  good  's  new  ;  'n 


Xame  <3ulcb  iprofessor  155 


I  ruther  guess  I  was,  all  except  the  gumption. 
'Twas  kind  o'  curous,  too,"  he  went  on, 
warming  to  his  subject,  and  fumbling  at  some 
thing  on  the  side  of  his  head.  ' '  When  the  bul 
let  ploughed  through  here,  the  settin'  sun  was 
in  my  eyes  ;  'n  soon  's  I  got  on  my  feet  agin  I 
wanted  to  go  West.  I  was  let  go  there  in  Vir 
ginia,  'n  though  I  hankered  after  my  own 
folks  as  bad  as  anybody,  there  was  nothin'  for 
it,  but  to  turn  toward  the  settin'  sun.  'N  fust 
I  went  to  Ohio,  'n  then  to  Illinois,  'n  then  to 
Missouri,  'n  so  on  here.  Never  could  manage 
to  stop  more  'n  a  few  years  in  one  place  till  I 
come  up  agin  the  Rocky  Mountings.  Since 
then  I  've  felt  kind  o'  settled  and  satisfied." 

But  Simon's  satisfaction  was  destined  to  be 
rudely  broken  in  upon. 

One  pleasant  September  day  somebody 
picked  up  something  in  the  Gulch  that  looked 
like  a  dingy  bit  of  quartz,  and  carried  it  down 
to  Springtown,  and  shortly  after  that  a  squad 
of  men  appeared  upon  the  scene.  The  moun 
tains,  faithless  to  their  trust,  had  let  them  in. 
They  gathered  together  along  the  Gulch  and 
on  the  side  of  Bear  Mountain,  where  Amber- 
ley  could  see  them,  little  remote  groups,  some 
times  losing  themselves  among  the  pine-trees, 
sometimes  showing  plain  against  the  sky  on 


156    ,  fteafe  anfc  ftratrfe 


the  exposed  comb  of  the  mountain-side.  By 
and  by  more  men  came  and  rougher  ones, 
bringing  mules  and  oxen  with  them,  and  camp 
ing  in  tents  which  they  deserted  by  day. 
When  the  early  snow  came,  Amberley  could 
see,  more  plainly  than  before,  the  doings  of  the 
encroaching  enemy.  Great  black  scars  were 
made  in  the  snow  ;  sledges,  laden  with  weird, 
ungainly  masses  of  wood  and  iron,  were  hauled 
up  the  mountain-side.  Here  and  there  a  struct 
ure  appeared,  that  had  a  grotesque  resem 
blance  to  a  gallows.  The  uncouth  monsters 
planted  themselves  along  the  hillside,  where 
they  breathed  forth  smoke  and  emitted  strange 
noises.  Amberley  could  hear  the  rattling -of 
chains,  the  creaking  of  timbers  ;  a  hoarse 
shout  would  sometimes  come  ringing  across 
the  Gulch  through  the  thin  frosty  air,  if  the 
wind  was  that  way. 

In  September  it  was  that  the  bit  of  quartz 
was  carried  down  to  Springtown  ;  before  the 
winter  snows  had  thought  of  melting,  a  town 
of  rude  frame  huts  had  sprung  up  in  the  hollow 
below,  and  lyame  Gulch  was  a  flourishing 
mining-camp.  All  the  rough-scuff  of  the 
country-side  promptly  gathered  there,  and 
elbowed,  with  equal  indifference,  the  honest 
miner,  the  less  honest  saloon-keeper,  and  the 


Gbe  battle  (Sulcb  professor  157 


capitalist,  the  degree  of  whose  claim  to  that 
laudatory  adjective  was  not  to  be  so  easily 
fixed.  No  one  seemed  out  of  place  in  the 
crazy,  zigzag  streets,  no  sound  seemed  foreign 
to  this  new,  conglomerate  atmosphere.  The 
fluent  profanity  of  the  mule-driver,  the  shrill 
laugh  of  the  dance-hall  ;  the  prolonged  rattle 
and  final  roar  of  the  ore-chute,  the  steady  pick 
of  the  laborer  at  the  prospect-hole  ; — each 
played  its  part  to  burden  and  stain  the  pure, 
high  air  that  had  seemed  so  like  the  air  of 
Heaven  itself. 

Amberley  stayed  on  in  his  lonely  lean  to,  or 
roamed  over  his  desecrated  acres,  bewildered 
and  aggrieved.  What  were  the  mountains 
thinking  of  to  admit  these  savage  hordes  ! 
Whither  should  he  go,  where  should  he  find  a 
refuge,  since  his  trusted  allies  had  played  him 
false  ?  He  loathed  it  all,  loathed  most  of  all 
Enoch's  exultant  suggestion  that  there  might 
be  gold  on  their  land. 

"But  we'll  lay  low  for  a  while,"  Enoch 
said,  with  an  air  of  profound  cunning.  ' '  We  '11 
wait  till  they  're  plumb  crazy,  and  then  we  kin 
git  our  own  price  !  ' ' 

And  Amberley  stayed  on  all  through  that 
trying  winter,  simply  because  he  knew  of  no 
better  place  to  go  to,  and  the  spring  came  and 


158  peafc  and  prairie 


found  him  there,  unreconciled,  to  be  sure,  but 
leading  his  usual  life.  And  so  it  happened 
that  one  day,  when  the  snow  had  disappeared 
from  all  the  southerly  slopes,  and  the  wind  was 
toward  the  Camp,  so  that  the  sounds  he  hated 
came  dulled  and  hushed  to  his  ear,  Amberley 
ventured  a  few  rods  down  the  hillside  in 
search  of  a  missing  calf.  The  truant  was  a 
pretty,  white-nosed  creature,  a  special  pet  of 
his  master's,  with  great  brown,  confiding  eyes, 
and  ample  ears,  and  Amberley  had  named  him 
Simon.  Not  a  usual  name  for  a  calf,  as  Simon 
was  well  aware,  but  somehow  it  gave  the  lonely 
man  a  peculiar  pleasure  to  know  that  his  name 
was  borne  by  a  cheerful  young  thing,  with  frisky 
tail  and  active  legs,  and  everything  to  live  for. 

As  the  elder  Simon  strolled  down  the  hill 
side  on  this  particular  spring  day,  calling  and 
peering  from  side  to  side,  his  eye  fell  upon  the 
first  daisy  of  the  season,  nestling  close  at  his 
feet, — a  single  blossom  among  a  crowded  group 
of  little  short-stemmed  scrubby  buds.  He 
stooped  to  pick  it,  and  was  standing,  lost  in 
wonder  over  its  frailty  and  its  hardihood,  when 
a  child's  voice  struck  his  ear,  calling,  "  Come 
Bossie,  come  !  " 

Stepping  around  a  projecting  rock  close  at 
hand,  Amberley  came  upon  a  pretty  scene. 


lame  (Bulcb  professor  159 


On  a  wide  level  sunny  space,  where  young 
grass  was  already  springing,  stood  a  little 
figure  in  blue,  with  yellow  hair  flying  about  in 
the  breeze  ;  a  tiny  hand  filled  with  grass,  held 
out  toward  the  doubtful  yet  covetous  Simon 
Jr.  The  child  stood  perfectly  still,  her  square 
little  back  turned  to  her  new  observer,  while 
the  calf  stumped  cautiously  toward  her.  At  a 
safe  distance  he  stopped  and  sniffed  at  the  tiny 
hand,  then  kicked  up  his  heels  and  pranced 
away  again.  The  little  drama  repeated  itself 
several  times,  the  child  standing  always 
motionless,  with  extended  arm,  and  calling 
upon  ' '  Bossie ' '  in  enticing  tones  to  come. 

Won  over  at  last  by  her  constancy, — or  by 
his  own  greed, —  "Bossie"  ventured  near 
enough  to  snatch  the  proffered  tidbit ;  then 
off  he  scampered,  in  ungrateful  haste,  mouth 
ing  the  delicate  morsel. 

A  sigh  of  relief  and  satisfaction  went  up 
from  the  little  figure,  while  one  small  hand 
gravely  rubbed  and  kneaded  the  arm  which 
had  so  pluckily  maintained  its  uncomfortable 
position.  Amberley  approached  with  his  short- 
stemmed  daisy. 

"  How  do  you  do,  little  girl?"  he  inquired 
in  his  most  polite  manner.  ' '  Would  you  like 
a  daisy?" 


160  jpeafc  and  prairie 


"  Yes,"  was  the  reply,  spoken  with  a  slight 
lisp. 

"  You  are  very  good  to  feed  Simon,"  Amber- 
ley  proceeded,  quite  set  at  ease  by  the  gracious 
acceptance  of  his  offering. 

' '  Yes  ;  ' '  said  the  child  once  more,  this  time 
with  a  rising  inflection. 

' '  Simon  is  my  calf,  you  know, ' '  Amberley 
went  on.  "  Here,  Simon,  come  along." 

Simon  Jr. ,  was  already  approaching,  with  an 
eye  to  business,  and  even  as  his  master  spoke, 
he  had  got  his  nose  into  a  certain  wide,  baggy 
pocket  in  the  old  army  trousers,  and  was  pok 
ing  it  about  in  very  familiar  fashion. 

"Wait  a  minute,  Simon,"  said  Amberley, 
drawing  himself  gently  away.  ' '  Here,  little 
girl,  you  take  a  bit  of  the  salt  in  your  hand  and 
he  '11  come  for  it." 

' '  Yes, ' '  came  the  assenting  voice ;  and  Si 
mon  Jr.,  once  convinced  that  the  pocket  was 
closed  to  him,  approached  the  child  with  easy 
confidence,  and  not  only  devoured  the  proffered 
salt,  but  continued  to  lick  the  grimy  little  palm 
when  it  was  quite  bare  of  that  pleasing  stimu 
lant. 

Then  the  child  laughed,  a  queer  little  short, 
grown-up  laugh,  and  declared:  "I  like  Simon." 

"  So  do  I,"  said  Amberley,  casting  about  for 


Xante  <5ulcb  professor  161 


some  new  blandishment.     "  Let 's  come  up  to 
the  shanty  and  draw  a  picture  of  him." 

' '  Yes, ' '  the  little  sphinx  replied. 

Amberley  held  out  his  hand,  with  a  poignant 
dread  lest  she  should  refuse  to  take  it ;  a  thrill 
of  pleasure,  almost  as  poignant,  went  up  his 
arm  and  so  on  to  his  heart,  as  the  tiny  hand 
rested  in  his  own. 

"What  is  your  name?"  he  asked.  They 
were  rounding  the  big  boulder  and  beginning 
the  short  ascent  to  the  cabin. 

"Eliza  Christie,  and  I  'm  six  years  old," 
she  replied,  tugging  the  while  at  his  hand,  to 
help  herself  over  a  rough  place.  Then,— 
"What  's  yours?  "  she  asked. 

' '  Simon  Amberley. ' ' 

' '  Same  ' s  the  calf, ' '  she  commented.  ' '  Was 
either  of  you  named  for  the  other  ? ' ' 

' '  Yes  ;  the  calf  was. ' ' 

' '  I  was  named  for  my  sainted  grandmother. 
Bella  Jones  says  Kliza  's  an  ugly  name,  but  Ma 
says  if  't  was  good  enough  for  my  sainted 
grandmother  it  's  good  enough  for  me." 

"/think  Eliza 's  a  real  pretty  name, "  Am 
berley  declared  in  a  tone  of  conviction,  as  he 
warded  off  the  renewed  advances  of  Simon. 
"If  ever  I  have  another  calf  I  shall  call  it 
Eliza." 


162  jpeafc  anD  prairie 

' '  I  like  both  the  Simons, ' '  Eliza  announced, 
with  flattering  openness. 

To  such  a  declaration  as  this,  modesty  for 
bade  any  reply,  and  the  two  went  on  in  silence 
to  the  cabin  door,  closely  followed  by  the 
white-nosed  gourmand. 

Outside  the  lean-to  was  a  bench,  roughly 
modelled  on  Amberley's  recollection  of  the 
settle  outside  his  mother's  kitchen  door. 

"  You  'd  better  set  there,  Eliza,"  he  said  ; 
"It  's  prettier  outside  than  in;"  and  he 
lifted  her  to  the  seat,  and  left  her  there,  with 
her  fat  little  legs  sticking  straight  out  in  front 
of  her. 

She  seemed  to  take  very  naturally  to  the 
situation,  and  indeed  her  small,  sturdy  person 
looked  as  much  a  part  of  the  homely  scene  as 
the  stubby  little  daisy  she  held  in  her  hand. 
As  she  sat  there  in  the  sunshine,  placid  and 
self-contained,  a  mysterious  trampling  and 
crackling  began  among  the  trees  close  at  hand, 
and  one  after  another,  three  solemn-eyed  cows 
emerged  into  the  clearing  and  fixed  a  wonder 
ing  gaze  upon  the  little  visitor.  She,  nothing 
daunted,  calmly  returned  their  gaze,  only  hold 
ing  the  daisy  a  little  more  tightly,  lest  one  of 
the  new-comers  should  take  it  into  her  head  to 
dispute  the  prize  ;  and  Simon  found  her,  upon 


Cbe  ILame  (Bulcb  {professor  163 


his   return,   confronting   the  horned  monsters 
with  unruffled  tranquillity. 

Acknowledging  the  presence  of  the  cows 
only  by  a  friendly  "Shoo,  there!"  he  estab 
lished  himself  beside  his  waiting  guest  upon 
the  settle,  his  long  legs  crossed,  by  way  of 
a  table. 

' '  Can  you  draw  ?  "  he  asked. 

"No;  I  don't  know  my  letters,"  she  re 
plied,  with  unconscious  irrelevance. 

' '  How  would  you  like  to  have  me  learn 
you?" 

"I'd  like  it." 

"  Well  ;  I  '11  learn  you  O  first.  That 's  the 
first  letter  I  learned  ; ' '  and  he  made  a  phe 
nomenally  large  and  round  O  in  the  upper 
left-hand  corner  of  the  sheet.  The  paper,  find 
ing  insufficient  resting-place  upon  the  bony 
knee,  took  occasion  to  flap  idly  in  the  gentle 
southerly  breeze  ;  upon  which  the  child  took 
hold  of  it  with  a  quaint  air  of  helpfulness 
which  was  singularly  womanly. 

' '  Now  I '  ve  learned  O, ' '  she  remarked,  "I'd 
like  to  learn  another." 

"  Well,  there  's  an  /  ;  see,  there  ?  " 

''The  other  one  looks  more  like  an  eye," 
she  observed  critically. 

"  So  it  does,  so  it  does  ! ' '  Amberley  admitted, 


peak  anD  prairie 


much  impressed  by  the  discovery.  "  But  then 
it 's  an  O  all  the  same,  and  this  one  is  an  /." 

"  Yes  ;  well,  I  've  learned  that.  Now,  make 
another." 

Thus  unheralded  and  unawares  come  the 
great  moments  of  life.  When  little  Eliza 
mounted  that  wooden  settle,  her  mind  was 
innocent  of  artificial  accomplishments  ;  before 
she  again  stood  on  her  round  fat  legs,  she  had 
begun  the  ascent  of  that  path  which  leads 
away  up  to  the  heights  of  human  knowledge. 
It  is  a  long  ascent  and  few  accomplish  it, 
but  the  first  essential  steps  had  been  taken  : 
little  Eliza  had  become  a  Scholar  \ 

Not  only  had  she  learned  to  recognize  an  O 
and  an  /,  an  S,  an  M,  and  an  A7,  but  she  had 
laboriously  made  each  one  of  them  with  her 
own  hand.  And,  furthermore,  she  had  seen 
them  combined  in  a  wonderful  group  which, 
if  her  teacher  was  to  be  credited,  stood  for 
Simon  \  It  was  better  than  drawing,  infinitely 
better  !  Anybody  could  make  a  round  thing 
with  four  crooked  legs  and  a  thin  tail,  and  call 
it  a  calf — but  only  a  scholar  could  put  five 
letters  together  and  make  them  stand  for  a 
man  and  a  calf  beside  ;  a  man  with  a  kind 
voice  and  a  big  beard,  and  a  calf  that  would 
lick  a  person's  hand  !  Oh,  but  life  had  grown 


Xame  (Bulcb  professor  165 

a  wonderful  thing  to  little  Eliza,  when  she 
trotted  down  the  hillside,  clinging  to  the 
fingers  of  her  new  friend,  and  holding  the 
sturdy  little  daisy  in  the  other  sturdy  little 
hand. 

And  life  had  grown  even  more  wonderful  to 
Simon  Amberley.  He  had  not  passed  such  a 
pleasant  day  since  he  could  remember,  and  he 
had  certainly  never  in  his  life  had  so  much  to 
look  forward  to  ;  for  had  not  Kliza  promised 
to  come  again  the  next  day,  and  to  bring 
Bella  Jones  with  her  ? 

He  went  into  the  cabin  after  his  chores  were 
done,  and  pulled  out  an  old  cowhide  trunk 
with  the  hair  pretty  well  worn  off  it,  and  there, 
inside,  he  found  the  battered  family  Bible  which 
had  been  sent  out,  at  his  request,  when  his 
mother  died  ;  and  a  copy  of  Shakespeare's 
Plays  in  one  volume  which  he  had  got  as  a 
prize  at  school.  There,  too,  were  Miss  Edge- 
worth's  Rosamond,  and  Nathaniel  P.  Willis' 
Poems,  and  one  volume  of  Dr.  Kane's  Explo 
rations  at  the  North  Pole.  "  Quite  a  library," 
he  said  to  himself,  with  conscious  pride.  He  had 
not  read  in  a  book  for  twenty  years  ;  not  since 
the  time,  back  in  Ohio,  when  he  had  bought 
Scott's  complete  Works  at  auction,  and  had  to 
sell  them  again  to  pay  his  way  to  Missouri, 


166  fteafc  anfc  prairie 


whither  he  had  gone  in  obedience  to  that  mys 
terious  prompting  of  the  setting  sun. 

By  and  by  he  strolled  up  the  hill  to  get  the 
sunset  light.  It  was  very  splendid  on  the 
glittering  snow  of  the  heights  over  yonder. 
After  all,  he  reflected,  the  mountains  knew 
pretty  well  what  they  were  about.  If  they  had 
not  let  the  enemy  through,  those  little  girls 
would  not  have  got  in,  and  he  should  not  have 
felt  as  if  he  were  beginning  life  all  over  again. 

Before  a  month  had  passed,  Simon  found 
himself  established  in  the  new  character  of 
Lame  Gulch  Professor.  So,  at  least,  Enoch 
called  him,  and  it  was  not  displeasing  to  the 
subject  of  Bnoch's  pleasantry  to  know  that 
others  had  adopted  the  suggestion  and  be 
stowed  upon  him  that  honorable  title.  His 
little  class  numbered  fifteen  or  twenty  children 
of  assorted  ages  and  dispositions,  who  came, 
lured  by  rumors  of  pleasant  things,  and  re 
mained  to  imbibe  learning  with  more  or  less 
avidity.  There  was  an  absence  of  restraint 
about  this  novel  school  which  appealed  strong 
ly  to  the  childish  heart.  The  scholars  were 
free  to  come  and  go  as  they  pleased,  a  privi 
lege  which,  once  established,  they  were  not 
inclined  to  take  undue  advantage  of.  They 
sat  on  the  most  amusing  seats,  improvised  from 


Xame  (Sulcb  professor  167 


fallen  tree  trunks,  or  small  wood-piles,  or 
cocks  of  hay.  They  called  their  teacher  what 
they  pleased  :  sometimes  Simon,  sometimes 
Teacher,  sometimes  Mister  !  Bella  Jones  al 
ways  said  "Perfessor."  They  studied  from 
whatever  book  they  liked  best,  each  child 
bringing  the  "Reader"  or  "Speller"  he 
could  most  easily  lay  hands  on.  But  they 
learned  more  from  Simon's  books  than  from 
their  own.  That  book  of  William  Shake 
speare's  stood  easily  first  in  their  estimation,  for 
when  the  ' '  perfessor  ' '  read  from  it,  they  some 
how  understood  the  story,  in  spite  of  the  hard 
words  which,  taken  by  themselves,  seemed  to 
mean  nothing  at  all. 

If  a  ground  squirrel  scuttled  across  the  clear 
ing,  no  one  was  so  quick  to  observe  him  as  the 
teacher  himself,  and  before  Fritz  Meyer  could 
seize  a  stone  to  fire  at  the  tame  little  chap,  the 
young  sportsman  had  become  so  interested  in 
something  Simon  was  saying  about  its  ways 
and  nature,  that  he  forgot  what  he  wanted  of 
the  stone. 

' '  How  do  you  spell  squirrel  ?  ' '  asked  a  sharp- 
featured  boy  one  day,  as  he  watched  the 
twinkling  eyes  of  one  of  the  tiny  creatures. 

Simon  drew  his  brows  together  over  his  mild 
eyes,  with  a  mighty  effort  at  thinking. 


168  peafc  anfc  {prairie 

"  How  do  you  spell  squirrel  ?  "  he  repeated. 
"How   do   you  spell    it?      Well;  you   begin 
with  an  sk,  of  course— and  then  there  's  a  w.~ 
I  don't  know,  Tim,  but  that 's  too  hard  a  word 
to  spell  until  you're  growed   up.      But   I'll 
learn  you  to   spell  woodchuck  !     We  used  to 
go  after  woodchucks  when  I  was  a  youngster. ' ' 
What  boy  could  insist  upon  the  spelling  of 
a  paltry  little  ground  squirrel,  with  beady  eyes 
and  nervous,  inconsequent  motions,  when  there 
was  talk  of  a  woodchuck,  lowering  in  his  black 
hole,  ready  to  fix  his  sharp  teeth  in  the  nose 
of  the  first  intruding  terrier?  If  they  learned 
in  after  years  that   the    spelling-books   knew 
nought  of  a  k  or  a  win  squirrel, — and  some  of 
them  never  did  ! — we  may  be  very  sure  that  it 
was  not  Simon  Amberley  that  fell  in  their  esti 
mation  ! 

Sometimes  Simon  Jr.  came  to  school,  and 
there  was  a  sudden,  exhilarating  scramble  in 
pursuit  of  his  tail  ;  now  and  then  a  hard- worked 
mother  would  bring  her  baby  and  sit  as  guest 
of  honor  in  Simon's  solitary  "cane-bottom," 
where  she  would  inadvertently  learn  items  of 
interest  with  regard  to  "yon  Cassius,"  or 
"bluff  Harry,"  or  a  certain  young  lady  who 
was  described  as  being  ' '  little  "  but  "  fierce, '  '— 
a  good  deal  like  Molly  Tinker  whose  "man" 


Gbe  Xame  (3ulcb  professor  169 


kept  the  "Golden  Glory  Saloon."  On  one 
occasion  a  rattlesnake  lifted  its  head  drowzily 
from  behind  a  rock  near  by,  and  was  despatched 
off-hand  by  Simon.  It  was  this  exploit  which 
filled  the  measure  of  Simon's  fame. 

"Any  fool  kin  learn  readin'  an'  writin'," 
said  Patsy  lenders,  the  eldest  of  the  band, 
who,  by  the  way,  had  yet  to  prove  himself  fool 
enough  to  do  so.  "  But  I  '11  be  durned  if  I 
ever  seen  a  stun  fired  as  neat  as  that !  " 

"Simon  's  smarter 'n  anybody,"  little  Eliza 
declared  in  reply.  ' '  He' s  smarter ' n  you  nor  me, 
'n  he's  smarter 'n  David  an'  Goliath,  'n  he  's 
my  Simon  !  " 

No  one  was  disposed  to  question  Eliza's 
prior  claim  to  Simon.  She  always  sat  beside 
him  on  the  original  settle  against  the  lean-to. 
She  would  not  abdicate  the  seat  even  when  the 
ground  grew  hot  and  pleasant  and  she  saw  half 
her  mates  lying  on  the  short  sparse  grass  with 
their  heels  in  the  air,  conning  their  books,  or 
falling  asleep  over  them,  as  the  case  might  be. 
She  felt  it  her  prerogative  to  sit  right  there, 
with  her  chubby  legs  sticking  out  in  front  of 
her  ;  there,  where  she  could  pull  at  Simon's 
sleeve  and  interrupt  his  discourse  as  often  as 
she  pleased. 

And   so  it  came    about,   that   by   the   time 


ipeafc  an£>  iprafrfe 


spring  had  passed  into  summer,  sumptuous 
wild-flowers  succeeding  the  first  little  scrubby 
daisy,  a  blessed  idyl  of  quaint  child  life,  dear 
to  Simon's  heart,  had  grown  out  of  the  chance 
meeting  on  the  hillside.  It  was  as  if  Simon's 
clearing  were  a  charmed  circle  into  which  no 
evil  could  enter,  to  which  no  echo  of  the  greed 
and  brutality  of  the  mining-camp  could  make 
its  way.  When  his  permission  was  respectfully 
asked  to  sink  a  few  prospect  holes  on  his  land, 
Simon  unhesitatingly  rejected  the  proposal, 
with  all  its  glittering  possibilities.  As  soon 
would  the  President  and  Fellows  of  Harvard 
College  permit  the  sinking  of  prospect  holes  in 
the  sacred  "yard"  itself,  as  the  Lame  Gulch 
Professor  allow  his  "  school  "  to  be  molested. 

But,  alas  !  it  is  written  in  the  books  that  no 
earthly  circle  shall  be  forever  charmed,  no 
human  enterprise  exempt  from  evil.  And  it 
was  little  Eliza  herself,  Simon's  champion  and 
dictator,  faithful,  plucky  little  Eliza,  by  whom 
the  evil  entered  in. 

She  came,  one  hot  July  day,  and  planted 
herself  quite  unconcernedly  beside  the  profes 
sor,  and  he,  looking  down  into  the  funny  little 
round  face,  beheld  a  great  black-and-blue  bump 
on  the  forehead.  The  sight  grieved  him  to  the 
soul,  even  before  he  knew  its  tragic  meaning. 


Gbe  Xamc  (Sulcb  fcrofeesov  171 


"Did  you  tumble  down,  Eliza?  "  he  asked 
with  great  concern. 

"No,"  said  Eliza. 

"  Did  you  bump  your  head  agin  some 
thing  ?  " 

"No." 

' '  Did  anybody  hurt  you  ? ' '  and  already  the 
professor  was  casting  wrathful  glances  from 
boy  to  boy,  well  calculated  to  strike  terror  to 
the  heart  of  the  culprit. 

11  Not  much  ;  "  said  the  matter-of-fact  little 
voice. 

"I  guess  't  was  her  pa  done  it,"  spoke  up 
Patsy  lenders.  "  He  '  s  a  bloomin'  terror  when 
he  's  drunk." 

Without  a  word,  Simon  rose  and  led  the 
little  creature  into  the  lean-to,  where  he  ten 
derly  bathed  the  bruise  in  cold  water,  giving 
no  voice  to  the  swelling  indignation  that  tore 
through  him.  His  tone  and  touch  were  but 
the  gentler  for  that,  as  he  sought  to  soothe 
the  self-contained  little  victim,  who,  truth 
to  tell,  seemed  not  much  in  need  of  his  minis 
trations. 

"My  lamb!"  he  murmured.  "  My  little 
lamb!" 

"  Ma  said  to  never  mind,"  the  plucky  little 
lamb  remarked.  "  He  ain  't  often  so. ' ' 


jpeafc  ant)  fl>rafrfe 


"  Do  you  love  your  father  ?  "  asked  Simon, 
seeking  to  fathom  the  blue  eyes  for  the  truth. 

The  blue  eyes  were,  for  the  moment,  intent 
upon  a  swarm  of  flies  disporting  themselves 
upon  the  window-pane. 

' '  Do  you  love  your  father  ?  ' '  Simon  asked 
again. 

' '  No  ;  ' '  quoth  Eliza,  ' '  I  wish  he  was  dead. ' ' 

Now  Simon  Amberley  was  slow  to  anger ; 
indeed  it  may  be  doubted  whether  he  had  ever 
in  all  his  life  before  been  thoroughly  roused  ; 
and  perhaps  for  that  very  reason,  the  surging 
flood  of  indignation,  so  new  to  his  experience, 
seemed  to  him  like  a  call  from  heaven.  All 
day  he  fed  his  wrath  on  the  deeds  of  Scripture 
warriors,  reading  aloud  from  the  sacred  records, 
till  Patsy  lenders  exclaimed,  enraptured,  that 
"  the  Bible  was  a  durned  good  book,  by 
Jiminy  !" 

lyittle  Eliza  stayed  on,  as  she  often  did  after 
the  school  was  dispersed,  sure  that  "  her 
Simon,"  would  find  some  new  and  agreeable 
entertainment  for  her. 

' '  Did  your  father  ever  hit  you  before  ? ' ' 
Amberley  asked  casually,  as  they  strung  a 
handful  of  painter' s-brush  into  a  garland, 
which  it  was  thought  might  prove  becoming 
to  Simon  Jr. 's  complexion. 


TLame  (Bulcb  professor  173 


"Yes,"  said  Eliza. 

* '  More  than  once  ? ' ' 

"Yes." 

' '  Where  did  he  hit  you  last  time  ? ' ' 

"Here."  And  Eliza  pulled  up  the  blue 
calico  sleeve,  and  displayed  a  pretty  bad  bruise 
on  the  arm. 

Simon  paused  a  moment  in  his  cross-exami 
nation. 

4 '  And  you  wish  he  was  dead  ?  "  he  asked  at 
last,  between  his  set  teeth. 

"Yes." 

' '  What  does  he  look  like  ?  ' ' 

"Something  like  you,"  was  the  startling 
response  ;  "  only  different." 

The  amendment  was,  at  first  blush,  more 
gratifying  to  Simon  than  the  original  state 
ment.  Yet,  when  Eliza  was  gone,  he  went  and 
looked  in  his  bit  of  a  looking-glass,  half  hoping 
to  find  some  touch  of  the  latent  ruffian  in  his  face. 
All  he  saw  there  was  a  kindly,  unalarming 
countenance,  with  a  full  blond  beard,  and  thick 
blond  hair.  The  eyes  had  a  look  of  bewilder 
ment  which  did  not  lessen  their  habitual  mild 
ness.  He  straightened  his  tall  form,  and  threw 
his  shoulders  back,  and  he  set  his  mouth  in  a 
very  firm,  determined  line  ;  but,  somehow,  the 
mild  eyes  would  not  flash,  and  a  profound  mis- 


174  Peafc  an&  prairie 


giving  penetrated  his  soul.  Was  he  the  man, 
after  all,  to  terrorize  a  ruffian  ?  The  ruffian  in 
question  was  an  unknown  quantity  to  his 
would-be  intimidator,  who  boasted  but  a  calling 
acquaintance  with  Eliza's  mother, — a  pale, 
consumptive  creature,  with  that  ' '  better-days ' ' 
air  about  her,  which  gives  the  last  touch  of  piti- 
fulness  to  poverty  and  hardship. 

Little  as  he  had  frequented  the  now  thriving 
metropolis  of  Lame  Gulch,  Amberley  knew 
pretty  well  where  to  look  for  his  man,  and  as 
he  sallied  forth  that  same  evening,  with  the 
purpose  of  investigating  the  ' '  unknown  quan 
tity,"  he  bent  his  steps,  not  in  the  direction  of 
the  rickety  cabin  in  the  hollow  there,  but 
toward  the  ' '  Lame  Gulch  Opera  House. ' '  This 
temple  of  the  muses  was  easily  discoverable, 
being  situated  in  the  main  street  of  the  town,  and 
marked  by  a  long  transparency  projecting  above 
the  door,  upon  which  the  luminous  inscription, 
' '  Opera  House, ' '  was  visible  from  afar. 

Upon  entering  beneath  this  alluring  sign, 
Amberley  found  himself  in  a  full-blown  '  'sample 
room,"  the  presence  of  whose  glittering  pyra 
mids  of  bottles  was  still  further  emphasized  by 
the  following  legend,  "Patronize  the  bar  and 
walk  in  !  "  which  was  inscribed  above  an  inner 
portal. 


%ame  <3ulcb  iprofessor  175 


The  new-comer  stepped  up  to  the  bar-tender. 

"Do  you  know  whether  a  miner  named 
Conrad  Christie  is  in  there  ?  "  he  asked. 

"I  guess  likely  enough,"  was  the  reply. 
"  Mr.  Christie  is  one  of  our  regular  patrons. 
Won't  you  take  a  drink,  Mister  ?  " 

"  No  ;  "  said  Simon,  shortly. 

"  No  ?  Ain't  that  ruther  a  pity  ?  But  pass 
right  in,  Sir.  Any  friend  of  Mr.  Christie's  is 
welcome  here." 

Whereupon  Mr.  Christie's  "  friend  "  passed 
through  the  door,  into  the  long,  narrow 
"Opera  House."  It  was  a  dirty,  cheerless 
hole,  in  spite  of  the  brilliance  of  many  oil 
lamps,  shining  among  the  flimsy  decorations. 
At  the  end  of  the  tunnel-shaped  room  was 
a  rude  stage,  festooned  with  gaudy,  squalid 
hangings,  beneath  which  a  painted  siren  was 
singing  a  song  which  Simon  did  not  listen  to. 
The  floor  of  the  auditorium  was  filled  with 
chairs  and  tables  in  disorderly  array,  the  occu 
pants  of  which  seemed  to  be  paying  more  at 
tention  to  their  liquor  and  their  cards  than  to 
the  cracked  voice  of  the  songstress.  There 
was  a  rattling  of  glasses,  the  occasional  clink 
of  money,  frequent  shrill  laughs  and  deeper- 
chested  oaths  and  guffaws  ;  the  fumes  of  beer 
and  whisky  mingled  with  the  heavy  canopy  of 


peak  anD  prairie 


smoke  which  gave  to  the  flaring  lights  a  lurid 
aspect,  only  too  well  befitting  the  place  and  the 
occasion. 

"Wai,  I  swan  !  "  exclaimed  a  familiar  voice 
close  at  Simon's  elbow  :  and,  turning,  he  beheld 
the  doughty  Enoch,  seated  at  a  table  close  to 
the  door,  imbibing  beer  at  the  hands  of  a  gaudy 
young  woman  in  a  red  silk  gown. 

Simon  looked  at  the  elderly  transgressor  in 
speechless  astonishment. 

•'  Yas,  here  I  be,"  said  Enoch,  jauntily, 
"  consortin'  with  the  hosts  of  Belial.  Take  a 
cheer,  Simon,  take  a  cheer." 

"I  guess  not,"  said  Simon,  slowly;  "I 
don't  have  no  special  hankerin'  after  Belial, 
myself.  Do  you  happen  to  know  a  man 
named  Conrad  Christie  ?  ' ' 

"  Him  's  the  gentleman,"  the  red-silk  Hebe 
volunteered.  "Him  in  the  yeller  beard  and 
the  red  necktie,  rakin'  in  the  chips." 

Amberley  took  a  critical  survey  of  his  ad 
versary.  He  was  a  man  of  forty,  or  there 
abouts,  singularly  like  Simon  himself  in  build 
and  coloring,  with  enough  of  the  ruffian  in  his 
aspect  to  give  the  professor  an  envious  sense 
of  inferiority.  He  was  playing  cards  with  a 
fierce-looking  fellow  in  a  black  beard,  who 
seemed  to  be  getting  the  worst  of  it. 


Ube  Xame  (Bulcb  professor  177 

Simon  was  conscious  afterwards  of  having 
turned  his  back  on  Enoch  rather  abruptly  ;  of 
having  interrupted,  by  his  departure,  an  out 
pouring  of  confidence  in  regard  to  "  Mis' 
Baker's  tantrums."  At  the  time,  however,  he 
had  but  one  thought  and  that  was  to  strike 
while  the  iron  was  hot.  He  felt  that  the  iron 
was  becoming  very  hot  indeed,  as  he  stepped 
up  to  the  yellow-haired  gambler,  who  was 
again  engaged  in  the  satisfactory  ceremony  of 
"  rakin'  'em  in." 

"  Mr.  Christie,"  Simon  said,  and  hot  as  the 
iron  was,  he  could  not  control  a  slight  tremor 
in  his  voice,  not  of  fear,  but  of  excitement. 
"  Mr.  Christie,  I've  got  something  to  say  to 
you.  Will  you  step  outside  with  me  ?  " 

Christie  measured  his  interlocutor  from  head 
to  foot,  till  Simon  felt  himself  insulted  in  every 
inch  of  his  person.  The  peace-loving  hermit 
had  time  for  blood-thirsty  thoughts  before  the 
answer  struck  his  ear. 

"  Not  much  !  "  came  the  reply  at  last,  while 
the  speaker  gathered  up  the  cards  and  began 
dealing.  "  If  this  place  is  good  enough  for 
me,  I  reckon  it 's  good  enough  for  a  blasted 
Sissy  of  your  description  !  ' ' 

No  one  would  do  Mr.  Christie  the  injustice 
to  suppose  that  his  remark  was  unembellished 


peafc  anfc  jpratrie 


by  more  forcible  expressions  than  are  hereby 
recorded.  Yet,  somehow,  the  worst  of  them 
lacked  the  sting  that  Simon  managed  to  get 
into  his  reply,  as  he  said,  in  a  suppressed 
voice:  "This  place  ain't  good  enough,  as 
far's  that  goes,  for  the  meanest  skunk  God 
ever  created  !  But  it  '11  do  for  what  we  've  got 
to  settle  between  us." 

' '  Have  a  seat,  Mister  ?  ' ' 

A  sick-looking  girl,  with  blazing  cheeks,  had 
placed  a  chair  for  him.  "  Have  a " 

The  words  died  on  her  lips  before  the  solemn, 
reproachful  look  the  professor  turned  upon  her. 

"  And  Jinny  looked  smart 
As  a  cranberry  tart !  " 

sang  the  discordant  voice  from  the  stage,  which 
nobody  thought  of  listening  to. 

"  It 's  the  Lame  Gulch  Professor,"  the  black- 
haired  man  remarked,  taking  a  look  at  his 
cards,  before  turning  to  his  glass  for  refresh 
ment. 

' '  Damn  the  Lame  Gulch  Professor  !  ' ' 
Christie  retorted,  by  way  of  acknowledging 
the  introduction. 

Then  Simon  spoke  again. 

"  Mr.  Christie,  you  've  got  the  prettiest  and 
smartest  little  girl  in  Lame  Gulch,"  he  de- 


Gbe  ILame  (3ulcb  professor  179 


clared,  laying  down  his  proposition  in  a  tone 
of  extreme  deliberation  ;  ' '  and  you  hit  her 
over  the  head  last  night,  and  't  ain't  the  first 
time  neither. ' ' 

"  Is  that  the  latest  news  you  've  got  to  give 
us?"  asked  Christie,  passing  his  hand  caress 
ingly  over  his  pistol,  which  lay  like  a  lap-dog 
on  his  knees. 

"Better  let  that  alone,"  said  the  black- 
haired  gambler,  persuasively.  "The  pro 
fessor  's  ben  good  to  my  kids." 

The  threat  was  so  very  covert  that  the 
sensitive  Christie  did  not  feel  himself  called 
upon  to  recognize  it  as  such. 

"He  ain't  no  target,"  Christie  declared, 
with  unutterable  contempt.  "I'd  as  soon 
shoot  a  door-mat  !  ' '  whereupon  he  proceeded, 
in  a  disengaged  manner,  to  empty  the  con 
tents  of  the  black  bottle  into  a  glass,  flinging 
the  bottle  under  the  table,  with  a  praiseworthy 
regard  for  appearances. 

Simon  breathed  deep  and  hard,  and  again 
there  was  an  exasperating  tremor  in  his  low- 
pitched  voice,  which  drawled  more  than  usual, 
as  he  said  : 

"No;  't ain't  the  latest  news!  What  I 
specially  come  to  tell  you  was,  that  if  you 
ever  lay  hands  on  that  child  agin,  I  '11  shoot 


i8o  jpeafc  anfc  ipratrie 


you  deader 'n   any   door-mat  you  ever  wiped 
your  great  cowardly  boots  on  !  " 

Bach  word  of  this  speech  seemed  to  cleave 
its  separate,  individual  way  with  a  slow,  pon 
derous  significance.  Christie  passed  his  hand 
absently  down  the  barrel  of  the  pistol  on  his 
knees,  till  his  fingers  rested  on  the  trigger. 
If  he  had  had  any  murderous  intention,  how 
ever,  he  seemed  to  think  better  of  it,  for  he 
contented  himself  with  a  shrug  and  an  oath, 
and  the  supercilious  inquiry  :  ' '  What  are  you 
givin'  us,  anyway  ?  ' '  The  man  of  the  black 
beard  eyed  his  movements  with  a  furtive 
interest.  Amberley  stood  a  moment,  to  give 
a  still  more  deliberate  emphasis  to  his  words, 
thinking,  the  while,  that  in  spite  of  the  un 
varnished  frankness  on  either  side,  neither  he 
nor  his  adversary  had  quite  made  each  other 
out.  Then  he  turned  and  threaded  his  way 
among  the  tables  to  the  door,  as  quietly  and 
composedly  as  he  had  come  ;  while  the  girl  on 
the  stage  repeated  the  assertion  in  regard  to 
"Jinny's"  smart  looks,  in  which  she  seemed 
still  unable  to  awaken  the  slightest  interest  in 
those  who  should  have  been  her  auditors. 
Before  he  had  passed  Enoch's  chair,  which 
was  placed  discreetly  near  the  exit,  the  pair  of 
gamblers  were  at  it  again.  Not  even  the  luck 


Xame  (Bulcb  {professor  181 


had  been  turned  by  the  interruption.  Christie 
was  sweeping  in  the  chips  to  the  same  refrain 
of  the  ''cranberry  tarts." 

When,  to  Simon's  infinite  relief,  little  Eliza 
appeared  at  school  the  next  morning,  the 
teacher  scrutinized  her  jealously  in  search  of 
bumps  and  bruises.  There  was  nothing  to  be 
seen  but  the  original  bump,  and  that  was 
reduced  in  size,  though  somewhat  intensified 
in  color,  since  the  day  before. 

"  I  wonder  how  I  should  feel  when  I  had 
shot  him!"  thought  Simon,  and  his  mind 
reverted  to  the  rattlesnake,  and  to  a  sneaking 
compunction  which  had  seized  him  when  the 
tail  gave  its  death-quiver.  The  possibility  of 
missing  his  mark  when  once  obliged  to  shoot 
did  not  enter  his  mind.  He  was  fighting  on 
the  side  of  right  and  justice,  and  possessing, 
as  he  did,  but  small  knowledge  of  the  world  and 
its  ways,  he  had  implicit  faith  in  the  triumph 
ant  out-come  of  all  such  encounters. 

He  took  small  credit  to  himself  for  any 
temerity  he  had  shown.  Somehow  it  seemed 
to  him  that  the  thing  had  been  made  very 
easy.  He  felt  moderately  sure  that  he  owed 
his  safety  to  the  villainous-looking  man  in  the 
black  beard  ;  and,  indeed,  that  was  quite  in 
order,  for  he  had  been  given  to  understand 


182  Ipeafc  anD  prairie 


that  Providence  was  not  above  making  use  of 
the  meanest  instruments  to  the  accomplishment 
of  a  good  end.  There  were  times  when  he 
was  even  constrained  to  hope  that,  by  the 
same  Great  Influence,  a  spark  of  magnanimity 
had  been  awakened  in  Christie's  abandoned 
soul  ;  and  once,  when  Eliza  reported  that  her 
"pa"  had  given  her  a  nickle,  he  almost 
believed  that  those  seemingly  ineffective  words 
of  his  had,  thanks  to  that  same  all-powerful 
intervention,  made  an  impression.  He  became 
positively  hopeful  that  this  might  be  the  case, 
when  nearly  a  month  had  passed,  and  no 
further  harm  had  come  to  his  "lamb." 

One  morning  Bella  Jones,  who  ordinarily 
kept  rather  fashionable  hours,  came  panting 
up  the  hill,  the  first  to  arrive.  She  was  a 
dressy  young  person,  whose  father  kept  a 
"sample-room."  Booking  hastily  about,  to 
make  sure  that  no  one  was  there  to  have  fore 
stalled  her,  she  cried,  still  quite  out  of  breath  : 

"Eliza  Christie,  she's  lost  her  ma  !  Died 
in  the  night  of  a  hemorag  !  Eliza  ain't  cried 
a  drop,  'n  her  pa  he  's  just  settin'  there  like 
he  was  shot  ! ' ' 

Like  he  was  shot  ! ' '  Simon  shivered  at 
the  words  as  if  a  cold  wind  had  passed,  strik 
ing  a  chill  through  the  intense  August  day. 


ILame  (Sulcb  jprofessoi'  183 


The  professor  kept  school  that  morning  as 
usual,  but  he  did  not  sit  on  the  settle  against 
the  lean-to,  and  when  Patsy  lenders  under 
took  to  hoist  himself  up  on  it,  the  boy  got  his 
ears  boxed.  Patsy  stated  afterwards,  in  main 
tenance  of  the  justifiable  pride  of  "  ten  years 
goin'  on  eleven,"  that  he  "wouldn't  ha'  took 
it  from  anybody  but  the  perfessor,"  and  he 
"  would  n't  ha'  took  it  from  him,  if 't  hadn't  a 
ben  for  that  snake  !  ' ' 

It  was  high  noon.  The  sun  was  pouring 
down  upon  the  group  of  children  in  the  clear 
ing  in  front  of  the  lop-sided  cabin,  and  upon 
the  empty  settle  up  against  it  ;  upon  the 
brooding  heights  that  spanned  the  horizon 
beyond  the  Gulch,  upon  the  fragrant  pine-trees 
close  at  hand.  Simon  Jr.  had  just  strayed 
along  with  a  blossoming  yucca  protruding  from 
his  mouth,  and  the  professor  had  driven  him 
farther  up  the  slope.  Returning  from  this 
short  excursion,  Simon  beheld  two  figures 
coming  up  the  Gulch  ;  a  blond-bearded  man, 
and  a  little  girl  in  blue.  He  hurried  toward 
them  in  real  trepidation.  He  could  not  bear  to 
see  the  lamb  actually  in  the  company  of  the 
wolf.  The  three  met  on  the  edge  of  the  clear 
ing  ;  Christie  was  the  first  to  speak. 

"I've  brought  you    Eliza,"    he  said,    in   a 


l84  peafc  anfc  prairie 

steady,  matter-of-fact  voice,  something  like 
Eliza's  own.  "Her  ma's  dead,  'n  you  can 
have  her  }f  you  want  her.  She  thinks  you  'd 
like  her." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Simon,  his 
voice  clouding  over,  so  that  it  was  hardly 
audible.  "  Can  I  hev  her  for  my  own  ? ' ' 

'  Yes  ;  that 's  the  proposition  !  'N  there  's 
a  hundred  dollars  in  her  pocket  which  is  all 
the  capital  I  can  raise  to-day.  I  can  do  the 
funeral  on  tick.  No  ;  I  won't  try  to  get  her 
away  from  you.  She  ain't  my  style." 

Simon  was  stooping  down  with  his  eyes  on 
a  level  with  Eliza's. 

"  Say,  Eliza,"  he  asked,  "would you  like  to 
be  my  little  girl  ?  ' ' 
"Yes,"  quoth  Eliza. 

And  come  and  live  with  me  all  the  time  ?  " 
"  Yes  !  "  and  she  put  out  a  little  hand  and 
touched  his  face. 

"She  won't  be  no  great  expense  to  you," 
said  Christie. 

Simon  stood  up  and  cast  a  significant  glance 
about  him. 

' '  I  guess  if  I  let  them  prospectors  in  on  my 
land,"  he  said,  "there  won't  be  no  great  call 
for  economizing  !  " 

The  two  men  stood  a  moment  facing  each 


Xame  <3ulcb  professor  185 


other  with  the  same  half-defiant,  half-puzzled 
look  they  had  exchanged  at  that  other  meeting, 
not  so  long  ago.  Christie  was  the  first  to  break 
the  silence. 

"  There  wa'  n't  never  much  love  lost  between 
Eliza  and  me,"  he  remarked,  as  if  pursuing  a 
train  of  thought  that  had  been  interrupted. 
' '  After  the  two  boys  died  of  the  shakes,  down 
in  the  Missouri  Bottoms,  both  in  one  week,  I 
kind  o'  lost  my  interest  in  kids.  But  I  'd  like 
to  know  she  was  in  better  hands  than  mine, 
for  her  mother's  sake." 

"Eliza,"  said  Simon,  in  a  tone  of  gentle 
authority  which  the  Lame  Gulch  Professor 
rarely  assumed.  "Eliza,  give  your  pa  that 
money,  and  tell  him  to  bury  your  ma  decent." 

Christie  took  the  money. 

"Well,"  said  he,  "I  guess  you're  correct 
about  the  prospectors.  They  're  right  after 
your  claim  ! — Good-bye  Eliza." 

"  Good-bye,"  said  Eliza,  digging  the  heel  of 
her  boot  into  the  bed  of  pine  needles. 

Yet  Christie  did  not  go. 

"I  '11  send  her  duds  up  after  the  funeral," 
he  said.  "And  her  ma's  things  along  with 
them.  And,  say  !  "  he  added  with  a  sort  of 
gulp  of  determination,  while  a  dark  flush  went 
over  his  face.  "About  that  door-mat,  you 


jpeafc  anfc  prairie 


know.  It  wasn't  respectful  and—/  apolo 
gize!" 

With  that,  Christie  strode  down  the  hill  to 
his  dead  wife,  and  Simon  and  the  child  turned 
and  walked  hand  in  hand  toward  the  lean-to. 
Half  way  across  the  clearing  Simon  Jr.  un 
abashed  by  his  late  ejection,  joined  the  pair. 

"  She  's  our  little  girl  now,  Simon,"  said  the 
professor,  gravely. 

"  Yes,"  quoth  Eliza,  with  equal  gravity. 

Upon  which  Simon  Jr.  kicked  up  his  heels 
in  the  most  intelligent  manner,  and  pranced  off 
in  pursuit  of  the  succulent  yucca. 


VII. 

THE   BOSS   OF  THE  WHEEL. 

WHEN  contrasted  with  the  ordinary  grog 
shop  and  gambling  den  of  Lame  Gulch, 
the  barroom  of  the  Mountain  Lion  has  an  air 
of  comfort  and  propriety  which  is  almost  a 
justification  of  its  existence.  If  men  must 
drink  and  gamble,— and  no  one  acquainted 
with  a  mining-camp  would  think  of  doubting 
the  necessity,— here,  at  least,  is  a  place  where 
they  may  do  so  with  comparative  decency  and 
decorum.  The  Mountain  Lion,  which  is  in 
every  respect  a  well-conducted  hostelry,  toler 
ates  no  disorderly  persons,  and  it  is  therefore 
the  chosen  resort,  not  only  of  the  better  class 
of  transient  visitors,  but  of  the  resident  aris 
tocracy  as  well.  In  the  spacious  office  are 
gathered  together  each  evening,  mining- 
engineer  and  real-estate  broker,  experts  and 
prospectors  from  Denver,  men  from  Spring- 
town  in  search  of  business  and  diversion,  to 
187 


anD  f>rairie 


say  nothing  of  visitors  from  the  eastern  and 
western  seaboards ;  and  hither,  to  the  more 
secluded  and  less  pretentious  barroom,  at  least, 
come  the  better  class  of  miners,  those  who 
have  no  special  taste  for  bloodshed  and  other 
deviltry,  and  who  occasionally  go  so  far  as  to 
leave  their  firearms  at  home.  Some  slight 
prejudice,  to  be  sure,  was  created  among  the 
independent  Sons  of  Toil,  when  it  was  found 
that  the  Mountain  Lion  did  not  permit  its 
waiters  to  smoke  cigarettes  while  on  duty  ; 
but  such  cavillers  were  much  soothed  upon 
learning  that  a  "bust  dude  "  had  been  quite  as 
summarily  dealt  with  when  he  broke  forth  into 
song  at  the  dinner- table.  This  latter  victim 
of  severity  and  repression  was  a  certain  Mr. 
Newcastle,  a  "gent  gone  to  seed"  as  he  was 
subsequently  described,  and  he  had  protested 
against  unkind  restrictions  by  declaring  that 
such  exhibitions  of  talent  were  /y/>-sical  of  a 
mining-camp.  He  pronounced  /r/-sical  with 
an  almost  audible  hyphen,  as  if  his  voice  had 
stubbed  its  toe.  But  Mr.  Newcastle's  in 
voluntary  wit  was  of  no  avail,  and  he  w7as 
forced  to  curb  his  songful  spirit  until  a  more 
fitting  season. 

So  it   came  about  that  the  Mountain  Lion 
had   not   been    in   existence   ten   days  before 


338066  of  tbe  TKHbeel.  189 


it  had  gone  on  record  as  a  thoroughly  ' '  first- 
class  "  establishment.  No  wonder,  then,  that 
an  air  of  peculiar  respectability  attached  itself 
to  the  "wheel"  itself  which  revolved  in  a 
corner  of  the  barroom  night  after  night,  whirl 
ing  into  opulence  or  penury,  such  as  entrusted 
their  fortunes  to  its  revolutions.  Despite  its 
high-toned  patronage,  however,  the  terms 
' '  roulette  ' '  and  ' '  croupier  ' '  found  small  fa 
vor  with  the  devotees  at  that  particular  shrine 
of  the  fickle  goddess,  and  Dabney  Dirke,  its 
presiding  genius,  was  familiarly  known  among 
"the  boys,"  as  "the  boss  of  the  wheel." 
"Waxey"  Smithers, — he  who  was  supposed 
to  have  precipitated  Jimmy  Dolan's  exit  from 
a  disappointing  world, — had  been  heard  to 
say  that  ' '  that  feller  Dirke ' '  was  too  (pro 
fanely)  high-toned  for  the  job.  Nevertheless, 
the  wheel  went  round  at  Dirke' s  bidding  as 
swiftly  and  uncompromisingly  as  heart  could 
wish,  and  to  most  of  those  gathered  about  that 
centre  of  attraction  the  "boss"  seemed  an  in 
tegral  part  of  the  machine. 

Dabney  Dirke  was  an  ideal  figure  for  the 
part  he  had  to  play.  He  was  tall  and  thin  and 
Mephistophelian,  though  not  of  the  dark  com 
plexion  which  is  commonly  associated  with 
Mephistopheles.  His  clean-shaven  face  got 


i9o  ipeafc  an£>  prairie 

its  marked  character,  not  from  its  coloring  but 
from  its  cut ;  Nature's  chisel  would  seem  to 
have  been  more  freely  used  than  her  brush  in 
this  particular  production.  The  face  was  long 
and  thin  and  severe,  the  nose  almost  painfully 
sensitive,  the  mouth  thin  and  firmly  closed 
rather  than  strong.  The  chin  did  not  support 
the  intention  of  the  lips,  nor  did  the  brows 
quite  do  their  duty  by  the  eyes,  which  had  a 
steely  light,  and  might  have  gleamed  with 
more  effect  if  they  had  been  somewhat  more 
deeply  set.  The  hair  was  sparse  and  light, 
and  the  complexion  of  that  kind  of  paleness 
which  takes  on  no  deeper  tinge  from  exposure 
to  sun  or  wind  or  from  passing  emotion. 

There  were  two  indications  that  "  the  boss 
of  the  wheel ' '  was  also  a  gentleman  ; — he  put 
on  a  clean  collar  every  day,  and  he  did  not  oil 
his  hair.  It  would  have  been  strange  indeed 
if  two  such  glaring  peculiarities  had  escaped 
the  subtle  perception  of  Mr.  Smithers,  and  it 
was  rather  to  be  wondered  at  that  such  inex 
cusable  pretensions  did  not  militate  against 
the  "boss"  in  his  chosen  calling. — That  the 
calling  was  in  this  case  deliberately  chosen, 
may  as  well  be  admitted  at  the  outset. 

Dabney  Dirke  had  once,  in  a  very  grievous 
moment,  sworn  that  he  would  "go  to  the 


Cbe  JBoas  of  tbe  TRflbccl. 


devil,"  and  had  afterwards  found  himself  so 
ill-suited  to  that  hasty  enterprise,  that  he  had 
been  somewhat  put  to  it  to  get  started  on  the 
downward  path. 

He  was  the  only  son  of  a  Wall  Street  mag 
nate  who  had  had  the  misfortune  to  let  his 
"transactions  "get  the  better  of  him.  Dirke 
often  thought  of  his  father  when  he  watched 
the  faces  of  the  men  about  the  ' '  wheel. ' '  There 
was  little  in  the  outer  aspect,  even  of  the  men 
of  civilized  traditions  who  stood  among  the 
gamblers,  to  remind  him  of  the  well-dressed, 
well-groomed  person  of  his  once  prosperous 
parent.  But  in  their  faces,  when  the  luck  went 
against  them,  was  a  look  that  he  was  poig 
nantly  familiar  with  ;  a  look  which  had  first 
dawned  in  his  father's  face,  flickeringly,  inter 
mittently,  and  which  had  grown  and  intensi 
fied,  week  after  week,  month  after  month,  till 
it  had  gone  out  in  the  blankness  of  despair. 
That  was  when  the  elder  Dirke  heard  his  sen 
tence  of  imprisonment.  For  Aaron  Dirke' s 
failure  had  involved  moral  as  well  as  financial 
ruin. 

He  had  died  of  the  shock,  as  some  of  his 
creditors  thought  it  behooved  him  to  do, — died 
in  prison  after  one  week's  durance.  His  son 
envied  him  ;  but  dying  is  difficult  in  early 


192  ipeafc  anfc  prairie 

youth,  and  Dabney  Dirke  did  not  quite  know 
how  to  set  about. 

Sometimes  when  he  gave  the  wheel  the  fate 
ful  turn,  he  tried  to  cheat  himself  with  an  idea 
that  it  obeyed  his  will,  this  wonderful,  dizzy 
ing,  maddening  wheel,  with  its  circle  of  help 
less  victims.  But  there  were  moments  when  he 
felt  himself  more  at  the  mercy  of  the  wheel  than 
any  wretched  gambler  of  them  all.  As  he 
stood,  with  his  curiously  rigid  countenance, 
performing  his  monotonous  functions  in  the 
peculiar  silence  which  characterizes  the  group 
around  a  gaming  table,  he  sometimes  felt  himself 
in  the  tangible  grasp  of  Fate  ;  as  if  the  figures 
surrounding  the  table  had  been  but  pictures  on 
his  brain,  and  he,  the  puppet  impersonating 
Fate  to  them,  the  real  and  only  victim  of  chance. 
At  such  times  he  could  get  free  from  this  im 
aginary  bondage  only  by  a  deliberate  summon 
ing  up  of  those  facts  of  his  previous  existence 
which  alone  seemed  convincingly  real.  They 
marshalled  themselves  readily  enough  at  his 
bidding,  those  ruthless  invaders  of  an  easy, 
indolent  life  ; — penury  and  disgrace,  wounded 
pride  and  disappointed  love,  and,  bringing  up 
the  rear,  that  firm  yet  futile  resolve  of  his  to 
go  to  the  devil.  Dabney  Dirke,  with  his  tragic 
intensity,  had  often  been  the  occasion  of  humor 


JBoss  of  tbe  Wbeel  193 


in  other  men,  but  it  is  safe  to  say  that  his  own 
mind  had  never  been  crossed  by  a  single  gleam 
of  that  illumining,  revivifying  flame.  For 
that  reason  he  took  his  fate  and  himself  more 
seriously,  Heaven  help  him  ! — than  even  his 
peculiar  ill-fortune  warranted. 

At  the  time  of  his  father's  failure  and  dis 
grace  he  had  been  the  accepted  suitor  of  a  girl 
whom  he  idealized  and  adored,  and  in  his  ex 
tremity  she  had  failed  him.  She  had  weakly 
done  as  she  was  bid,  and  broken  faith  with 
him.  It  was  on  this  occasion  that  he  laid 
upon  himself  the  burdensome  task  of  which 
mention  has  been  made. 

"  Frances,"  he  had  said,  with  the  solemnity 
of  a  Capuchin  friar  taking  his  vows  ;  "  Frances, 
if  you  cast  me  off  I  shall  go  to  the  devil  ! ' ' 

Frances  was  very  sorry,  and  very  reproach 
ful,  and  withal,  not  a  little  flattered  by  this 
evidence  of  her  negative  influence  ;  but  she 
gave  him  her  blessing  and  let  him  go,  whither 
he  would  ;  and  he,  with  the  inconsequent 
obstinacy  of  his  nature,  carried  with  him  a  per 
fectly  unimpaired  ideal  of  her,  sustained  by  her 
tearful  assurance  that  she  should  always  love 
him  and  pray  for  him.  Even  when  he  heard 
within  the  year  that  she  was  about  to  make 
a  brilliant  marriage  with  a  titled  Frenchman 


ant> 


whom  she  had  met  at  Newport,  he  persisted  in 
thinking  of  her  as  the  victim,  not  of  her  own 
inconstancy,  but  of  parental  sternness.  He 
sometimes  saw  her  pretty  face  quite  distinctly 
before  his  eyes,  as  he  looked  out  across  the 
swiftly  spinning  wheel,  into  the  smoke-hung 
barroom,—  the  pretty  face  with  the  tearful  eyes 
and  the  quivering  lip  of  shallow  feeling,  the 
sincerity  of  which  nothing  could  have  made 
him  doubt,—  and  somehow  that  pictured  face 
had  always  the  look  of  loving  and  praying  for 
him. 

There  was  a  certain  little  ring,  bearing  a 
design  of  a  four-leaved  clover  done  in  dia 
monds,  a  trinket  of  her  girlhood  days,  which 
she  used  to  let  him  wear  "for  luck."  He  had 
it  on  his  little  finger  the  day  his  father  was 
sentenced.  Its  potency  might  fairly  have  been 
questioned  after  that,  yet  when  she  took  it 
back  he  felt  as  if  the  act  must  have  a  blighting 
influence  upon  his  destinies,  quite  apart  from 
the  broken  engagement  which  it  marked. 

He  had  accepted  for  the  nonce  a  place  at 
the  foot  of  the  ladder  in  a  bankers'  and 
brokers'  office  which  was  offered  him  by  one 
of  the  partners,  an  old  friend  of  his  father's. 
He  held  the  place  for  some  months,  and,  being 
quite  devoid  of  ambition,  he  soon  came  to 


Gbe  JBoss  of  tbe  Tldbeel  195 


loathe  the  daily  grind.  Through  that,  as 
through  the  later  vicissitudes  of  his  career,  his 
mind  clung,  with  a  curious,  mechanical  persis 
tency,  to  that  troublesome  vow  which  he  had 
made. 

The  difficulty  lay  in  his  entire  constitutional 
lack  of  vicious  tendencies.  He  had  no  taste 
for  drink  and  none  for  bad  company  ;  highway 
robbery  was  played  out,  and  the  modern  sub 
stitutes  for  it  were  too  ignoble  to  be  thought 
of.  Had  that  not  been  the  case  his  perplexities 
might  have  found  an  easy  solution,  for  more 
than  one  golden  opportunity  offered  for  bald, 
barefaced  breach  of  trust.  One  day  in  partic 
ular,  he  found  himself  in  the  street  with  thirty 
thousand  dollars  in  his  trousers'  pocket.  This 
not  unprecedented  situation  derived  its  special 
significance  from  the  fact  that  the  day  was  the 
one  fixed  for  Frances  Lester's  marriage.  As 
Dirke  walked  up  the  street  he  saw,  in  fact,  the 
carriages  drawn  up  before  Trinity  Church, 
and  he  knew  that  the  ceremony  was  going  for 
ward.  He  was  struck  with  the  dramatic 
possibilities  of  the  moment.  Were  he  to 
decamp  on  the  spot,  he  might  be  in  time  to  get 
into  the  morning  papers,  and  Frances  would 
know  with  what  eclat  he  had  celebrated  her 
wedding  day.  He  raised  his  hand  to  signal  a 


ig6  peafc  and  prairie 

cab,  but  the  driver  did  not  see  him,  and  ten 
minutes  later  the  money  had  gone  to  swell  his 
employers'  bank-account.  He  had  often  ques 
tioned  what  would  have  been  his  next  step, 
supposing  that  particular  cab-driver  had  had 
his  wits  about  him  and  seen  the  signal.  He 
was  loath  to  admit  that  he  would  merely  have 
been  at  the  expense  of  driving  the  few  blocks 
to  the  same  destination  which  he  had  reached 
more  economically  on  foot  ! 

He  had  returned  in  time  to  .stand  among  the 
crowd  on  the  sidewalk  and  see  the  bridal  party 
issue  from  the  church.  When  bride  and  bride 
groom  crossed  the  narrow  space  between  the 
awning  and  the  carriage  door,  Dirke  had  his 
first  opportunity  of  seeing  the  Count  de  Lys. 
He  could  not  but  perceive  that  the  man  was 
the  possessor  of  a  high-bred,  handsome  face, 
but  perhaps  it  was,  under  the  circumstances, 
not  altogether  surprising  that  he  found  the 
handsome  face  detestable.  The  mere  sight 
of  the  black  moustache  and  imperial  which 
the  Frenchman  wore  so  jauntily  was  enough 
to  make  the  unhappy  broker's  clerk  forswear 
all  kindred  ornaments  to  the  end  of  his  days. 

A  broker's  clerk  he  did  not  long  remain, 
however.  He  was  too  restless  for  that,  too 
much  at  odds  with,  the  particular  sort  of  life 


ftbe  ;©o06  of  tbe  Uflbeet  197 


his  situation  forced  him  into.  Within  a  month 
of  the  day  on  which  he  had  proved  himself  so 
signally  unfitted  for  the  rdle  of  rascal,  he  had 
thrown  up  his  position  and  cut  himself  loose 
from  all  his  old  moorings.  It  was  in  a  spirit 
of  fantastic  knight-errantry  that  he  turned  his 
face  westward,  a  spirit  that  gave  him  no  rest 
until,  at  the  end  of  many  months,  he  finally 
dropped  anchor  in  the  riotous  little  harbor  of 
Lame  Gulch.  This  turbulent  haven  seemed 
to  promise  every  facility  for  the  shipwreck  on 
which  he  had  so  perversely  set  his  heart,  and 
he  was  content  to  wait  there  for  whatever  storm 
or  collision  should  bring  matters  to  a  crisis. 
Perhaps  the  mere  steady  under-tow  would 
suck  him  down  to  destruction.  The  under-tow 
is  not  inconsiderable  among  the  seething 
currents  of  life  in  a  two-year-old  mining-camp. 
Dirke  had  not  been  long  in  the  camp,  before 
his  indefeasible  air  of  integrity  and  respecta 
bility  had  attracted  the  attention  of  no  less  a 
personage  than  the  proprietor  of  the  roulette 
wheel,  who  invited  him  to  run  the  wheel  on  a 
salary.  It  was  now  some  three  months  since 
he  had  entered  upon  this  vocation,  and  it  had, 
on  the  whole,  been  a  disappointment  to  him. 
He  had  accepted  the  position  with  an  idea  that 
he  should  be  playing  the  sinister  r6le  of 


IQ&  Ifteafc  anfc  fcrairfe 

tempter,  that  he  should  feel  himself  at  last 
acting  a  very  evil  part.  To  his  surprise  and 
chagrin  he  found  that  he  was  conscious  of  no 
moral  relation  whatever  with  the  victims  of 
the  wheel.  It  was  not  he  who  enticed  them  ;  it 
was  not  he  who  impoverished  them.  On  the 
contrary,  given  his  contract  with  the  "bank," 
he  was  doing  his  duty  as  simply  and  scrupu 
lously  here  as  in  the  Wall  Street  office,  per 
forming  a  certain  function  for  certain  pay, 
accountable  to  an  employer  now  as  hitherto. 
And,  indeed,  when  he  reflected  upon  the 
glimpses  of  Wall  Street  methods  he  had  got, 
and  upon  the  incalculable  turns  of  the  Wall 
Street  wheel,  whirling  its  creatures  into  opu 
lence  or  penury  as  capriciously  as  the  rou 
lette  wheel  itself,  he  could  not  but  feel  that  he 
was  serving  the  same  master  now  as  hereto 
fore,  and  to  very  much  the  same  ends.  And 
now,  as  heretofore,  he  had  no  reassuring  sense 
of  being  on  the  downward  path. 

He  used  to  amuse  himself  during  the  day, — 
for  his  time  was  his  own  from  dawn  to  dark, — in 
trying  to  work  out  the  law  of  averages,  follow 
ing  out  the  hints  he  gathered  from  the  working 
of  the  wheel.  He  had  always  had  a  taste  for 
mathematics,  having  rather  "  gone  in  "  for  that 
branch  at  college.  Fleeting  visions  of  becom- 


Gbe  JBoss  of  tbe  TKflbeel  199 


ing  an  astronomer  had  visited  him  from  time 
to  time  ;  but  the  paralysis  of  wealth  had  de 
terred  him  while  he  was  yet  ostensible  master 
of  his  own  fate,  and  now  the  same  inherent 
weakness  of  character  which  had  made  him  a 
slave  to  wealth,  made  him  a  slave  to  poverty, 
and  he  regarded  whatever  latent  ambition  he 
had  ever  cherished  as  a  dead  issue.  His  mind 
sometimes  recurred  to  those  neglected  prompt 
ings  of  happier  days,  as  he  went  forth  under 
the  stars  after  hours,  and  cleared  his  brain  by 
a  walk  in  the  pure  night  air.  It  was  his  habit 
to  make  for  the  hills  outside  the  camp,  and  his 
solitary  wanderings  were  much  cheered  by  the 
light  of  those  heavenly  lamps.  At  this  high 
altitude  they  had  a  peculiar  brilliance  that 
seemed  to  give  them  a  nearer,  more  urgent 
significance  than  elsewhere.  He  felt  that  it 
was  inconsistent  in  him  to  look  at  the  stars 
and  to  inquire  into  the  law  of  averages.  It 
would  be  more  in  character,  he  told  himself, — 
that  is,  more  in  the  character  he  aspired  to — if 
he  were  to  embrace  the  exceptional  advantages 
Lame  Gulch  offered  for  doing  something  dis 
reputable.  Yet  the  stars  shone  down,  un 
daunted  and  serene,  upon  the  squalid  camp, 
and  into  the  bewildered  soul  of  Dabney 
Dirke,  so  fantastically  pledged  to  do  violence 


200  peak  an&  prairie 


to  its  own  nature.  Sometimes  they  twinkled 
shrewdly,  comprehendingly  ;  sometimes  they 
glowed  with  a  steady  splendor  that  seemed  to 
dominate  the  world.  There  were  nights  when 
the  separate  stars  were  blended,  to  his  appre 
hension,  in  one  great  symphony  of  meaning  ; 
again  certain  ones  stood  out  among  the  others, 
individual  and  apart.  There  was  Jupiter  up 
there.  He  did  not  look  as  if  he  were  revolv 
ing  with  lightning  speed  about  the  sun,  and 
the  moons  revolving  about  him  were  not  even 
visible.  That  was  the  kind  of  roulette  wheel  a 
man  might  really  take  an  interest  in  !  And 
while  he  dallied  with  the  stars  and  with  those 
higher  promptings  which  their  radiance  sym 
bolized,  he  yet  clung  persistently  to  the  purely 
artificial  bonds  he  had  put  upon  himself. 

Poor  Dabney  Dirke  !  If  he  had  possessed 
the  saving  grace  of  humor  he  could  not  have 
dedicated  the  golden  years  of  youth  to  anything 
so  hopelessly  chimerical  and  absurd.  He 
would  have  perceived  that  he  was  enacting  the 
part  of  an  inverted  Don  Quixote  ;  a  character 
grotesque  enough  when  planted  on  its  own 
erratic  legs,  but  hopelessly  ridiculous  when 
made  to  stand  on  its  head  and  defy  its  wind 
mills  up-side-down.  As  it  was,  he  continued 
to  take  himself  seriously,  and  to  argue  with 


Cbe  $000  of  tbe  TJdbeel  201 


himself  on  every  concession  made  to  a  nature  at 
bottom  sound  and  well-inclined,  if  not  well- 
balanced  ;  and  he  was  still  standing  at  his 
incongruous  post,  performing  its  duties  with 
dogged  industry,  when  something  happened 
which  created  a  commotion  within  him.  The 
man  who  had  married  Frances  Lester  came  to 
Lame  Gulch  and  gravitated,  as  every  guest  of 
the  Mountain  Lion  is  sure  to  do,  for  the  passing 
moment  at  least,  to  the  barroom  of  the  house. 
The  count  was  a  member  of  a  French  syndi 
cate  engaged  in  the  erection  of  a  "  stamp- 
mill  "  at  Lame  Gulch,  and  he  was  making  a 
flying  trip  from  the  East  with  one  of  his  com 
patriots,  to  take  a  look  at  the  property.  He 
was  a  man  of  medium  height  whose  nationality 
and  rank  were  equally  unmistakable,  and  his 
air  of  distinction  attracted  no  little  attention 
upon  his  entrance.  Dirke,  however,  did  not 
see  him.  There  was  a  throng  of  men  about 
the  wheel,  and  the  "  boss"  was  regarding  their 
movements  with  the  perfunctory  attention 
which  his  duties  required,  when  a  hand,  whiter 
than  the  others,  was  thrust  forward.  As  it 
placed  a  silver  dollar  on  the  board  a  flash  of 
diamonds  caught  Dirke' s  eye,  and  he  recog 
nized  the  "lucky  ring"  he  had  once  worn. 
It  was  a  closer  fit  for  the  little  finger  of  the 


202  peak  ant)  jprairie 


present  wearer  than  it  had  been  for  his  own. 
There  was  little  need  of  further  investigation 
to  establish  the  identity  of  the  new-comer. 

The  wheel  went  round  and  the  ball  dropped 
in  the  stranger's  favor.  Dirke  glanced  at  him 
as  he  pocketed  his  winnings.  The  handsome 
face  antagonized  him  even  more  strongly  than 
it  had  six  months  ago. 

M.  de  L,ys  did  not  play  again  immediately. 
He  watched  the  wheel  with  a  quiet  intentness, 
as  if  he  were  establishing  some  subtle,  occult 
influence  over  it.  Then  the  white  hand  was 
quietly  extended,  and  a  gold  piece  glittered 
where  it  had  touched.  Again  the  ball  declared 
itself  in  favor  of  the  Frenchman. 

He  played  at  intervals  for  more  than  an  hour, 
with  unvarying  success.  Eager,  inexperienced 
boys  rashly  staked  and  often  lost ;  laborers 
with  haggard  faces  saw  their  earnings  swept 
away  ;  but  the  count,  always  calm  and  deliber 
ate,  won, — won  repeatedly,  invariably.  He 
rarely  risked  more  than  ten  dollars  on  a  single 
turn  ;  he  never  placed  his  money  on  a  number. 
He  played  red  or  black,  and  the  ball  followed 
his  color  as  the  needle  follows  the  magnet. 
Dirke  began  to  dread  the  sight  of  that  white 
hand  ;  the  gleam  of  the  diamonds  seemed  to 
pierce  and  pain  him  like  sharp  steel. 


Gbe  $oss  of  tbe  Wbeel  203 

An  hour  had  passed  and  Dirke  estimated 
that  de  Lys  must  have  won  several  hundred 
dollars.  Other  men  had  begun  to  choose  his 
color,  and  the  "  bank  "  was  feeling  the  drain. 
Yet  the  machine  itself  was  not  more  uncon 
cerned  than  the  "  boss  "  appeared,  as  he  paid 
out  the  money  lost,  and  set  the  wheel  spinning 
to  new  issues.  Black,  red,— red,  black  ;  so  the 
ball  fell,  but  always  in  favor  of  the  white  hand 
with  the  flashing  brilliants.  The  group  about 
the  table  was  becoming  excited  ;  Dirke  knew 
very  well  that  if  the  thing  went  on  much  longer 
the  "  bank  "  would  have  to  close  down. 

There  was  a  moment's  pause,  while  all  waited 
to  follow  the  stranger's  lead.  Then  the  white 
hand  reached  forward  and  placed  four  five- 
dollar  gold  pieces  upon  the  red.  A  dozen 
gnarled  and  grimy  hands  swarmed  like  a  flock 
of  dingy  birds  above  the  board,  and  each  one 
laid  its  coin  upon  the  red.  Round  went  the 
wheel  ;  the  ball  sped  swiftly  in  its  groove. 
Then  the  speed  slackened,  the  ball  seemed  to 
hesitate  and  waver  like  a  sentient  thing  making 
choice  ;  there  was  the  light  click  of  the  drop  ; 
the  "  bank"  had  won. 

After  that  the  white  hand  played  with  vary 
ing  luck,  sometimes  winning,  sometimes  losing. 
The  other  players  began  staking  on  their  own 


2°4  fceafc  anfc  fl>rairfe 

account  again.  And  then,  some  time  after 
midnight,  de  Lys  began  losing,  as  persistently, 
as  uninterruptedly  as  he  had  won.  He  played 
as  deliberately  as  before,  with  a  something 
more  of  calculating  intentness,  but  the  charm 
was  broken  ;  the  wheel  seemed  to  whirl  with  an 
intelligent  revolt.  Just  as  surely  as  the  white 
hand  placed  a  coin  upon  the  black,  the  red 
had  it ;  just  as  certainly  as  the  diamonds  flashed 
above  the  red,  the  ball  found  its  way  into  the 
black.  The  handsome  face  grew  slightly 
strained  and  eager — so  slightly  that  the  change 
would  have  escaped  the  ordinary  observer. 
For  the  first  time  Dirke  found  a  satisfaction  in 
the  contemplation  of  those  high-bred  features. 
vSilver,  gold,  banknotes,— each  and  all  were 
swept  into  the  coffers  of  the  "bank."  His 
losses  must  already  exceed  his  winnings,  Dirke 
thought.  The  thought  animated  him  with  a 
malignant  joy.  For  the  first  time  he  felt  an 
interest  in  the  fall  of  the  ball  ;  for  the  first 
time  too,  he  felt  the  evil  in  his  nature  vibrate 
into  life. 

Three  turns  of  the  wheel  had  taken  place 
with  no  appearance  of  the  white  hand  upon 
the  board.  "Busted."  had  been  the  laconic 
comment  of  a  by-stander.  Dirke  glanced  at 
the  count  and  their  eyes  met.  The  gambler 


Boss  of  tbe  "Qdbeel  205 


was  fingering  the"  lucky  ring."  As  he  caught 
Dirke's  eye  he  drew  the  ring  from  his  finger. 

"What  will  you  place  against  that?"  he 
asked,  handing  it  over  to  the  boss.  His  Eng 
lish  was  careful  and  correct,  yet  as  Gallic  as 
his  face  itself. 

Dirke  examined  the  ring  judicially,  wonder 
ing,  the  while,  that  it  did  not  burn  his  fingers. 
The  moment  in  which  he  last  held  it  thus  was 
far  more  vivid  to  his  consciousness  than  the 
present  instant  and  the  present  .scene. 

"  Twenty  -five  dollars,"  he  said,  in  his  most 
official  tone,  as  he  returned  the  ring  to  its 
owner. 

The  wheel  spun,  the  ring  glittered  on  the 
red.  The  count  leaned  slightly  forward. 
Dirke  watched  only  the  wheel.  He  had  a 
wild  notion  that  the  result  was  life  or  death  to 
him,  yet  why,  he  could  not  tell.  Then  the 
wheel  .slackened,  the  ball  hesitated,  paused, 
dropped.  Black  had  won  ! 

M.  de  L,ys  turned  on  his  heel  and  left  the 
table.  An  hour  later  the  room  was  empty  and 
the  lights  were  out. 

When  Dirke  passed  through  the  office  of 
the  Mountain  Lion  and  stepped  out  on  the 
veranda,  the  night  was  far  spent,  but  the  deep 
June  sky  was  still  spangled  with  stars.  He, 


206  ipeafc  anD  iprairie 


stood  for  an  instant  at  the  top  of  the  steps,  hard 
ly  aware  of  the  delicious  wash  of  the  night  air 
on  his  face,  which  yet  he  paused  to  enjoy. 
There  was  a  foot- fall  close  at  hand  and  a  voice. 

"  M.  le  croupier?  "  the  voice  queried. 

He  turned  sharp  about.  The  Frenchman 
stood  there  with  his  hat  raised,  a  gentleman 
to  the  finger-tips.  Involuntarily  Dirke  lifted 
his  own  hat,  and  lifted  it  after  the  manner  of 
a  gentleman.  The  manner  was  not  lost  upon 
the  Frenchman. 

"  Monsieur,"  said  the  latter,  courteously  ; 
' '  I  had  the  misfortune  to  lose  a  ring  this  even 
ing.  I  shall  redeem  it  on  the  morrow,  when  I 
can  command  my  resources." 

The  ' '  boss  ' '  looked  him  full  in  the  face. 
They  could  not  distinguish  one  another's  fea 
tures  in  the  starlight,  yet  the  two  personalities 
were  as  plainly  in  evidence  as  could  have  been 
the  case  in  the  broad  light  of  day. 

"No,  you  won't!"  Dirke  retorted,  coolly, 
planting  his  hat  firmly  on  his  head  again.  He 
was  angry  with  himself  for  having  removed  it. 

' '  May  I  ask  Monsieur  why  not  ?  ' ' 

' '  Because  the  ring  is  sold  !  ' ' 

The  Frenchman  started  visibly. 

' '  And  the  purchaser  ?  Would  you  have  the 
courtesy  to  indicate  to  me  the  purchaser  ? ' ' 


JBoss  of  tbe  TllUbecl  207 


"No!" 

The  rudely  spoken  monosyllable  put  an 
abrupt  period  to  the  conversation. 

Dirke  passed  down  the  steps  and  along  the 
deserted  street.  As  he  paced  the  length  of  the 
board  sidewalk,  which  helped  itself  over  the 
ups  and  downs  of  the  ungraded  thoroughfare 
by  means  of  short,  erratic  flights  of  steps  at 
certain  points,  he  distinctly  heard  footsteps 
following.  They  sounded  plainly  on  the  plank 
walk,  and  he  did  not  for  a  moment  doubt 
whose  they  were.  His  hands  were  in  his  coat- 
pockets.  On  the  little  finger  of  his  left  hand 
was  the  ring. 

He  paused,  opposite  the  brightly  lighted 
windows  of  the  last  saloon  in  the  row.  The 
town  ended  there,  the  street  lapsing  into  a 
rough  and  trackless  barren.  Here  he  waited 
for  the  Frenchman  to  come  up  with  him.  He 
watched  his  progress  with  a  curious  interest, 
noting  how  the  figure  was  at  one  moment  lost 
in  the  shadow,  only  to  emerge,  the  next  in 
stant,  into  the  full  light  that  streamed  from 
some  nocturnal  haunt.  As  he  came  up  with 
Dirke,  the  electric  light  over  the  entrance  to 
the  saloon  shone  full  upon  them  both. 

Dirke  waited  for  him  to  speak.  Again  he 
raised  his  hat,  but  this,  time  Dirke.  was  on  his 


208  ipeafc  an£>  prairte 


guard  and  was  not  to  be  betrayed  into  any 
concession  to  courtesy.  There  was  a  slight 
shrug  of  the  shoulders  as  the  Frenchman  re 
placed  his  hat.  He  spoke,  however,  in  a 
conciliatory  tone  : 

"It  is  a  fine  evening,"  he  observed.  "I 
have  followed  your  example.  I  go  for  a 
walk." 

"You  have  followed  me,  you  mean,"  said 
Dirke,  bluntly.  "  I  heard  you  behind  me." 

Then,  moved  by  a  sudden  impulse  to  pre 
cipitate  matters,  he  drew  his  left  hand  from  his 
pocket.  The  diamonds  flashed  in  the  light. 

M.  de  lyys's  eyes  flashed  in  response.  With 
all  his  unabated  elegance,  he  had  something 
the  look  of  a  tiger  ready  to  spring  upon  his 
prey.  But  he  held  himself  in  check. 

"Monsieur!"  he  cried,  and  there  was  a 
savage  note  in  his  voice,  which  Dirke  would 
not  have  credited  him  with.  "  Monsieur  !  If 
you  decline  to  permit  me  to  pay  for  that 
ring  to-morrow,  I  am  ready  to  fight  for  it 
to-night  !  ' '  He  pronounced  the  word  ' l  fight ' ' 
with  a  peculiar,  hissing  emphasis. 

"  Not  to-night,"   Dirke  rejoined  quietly. 

' '  And  why  not  to-night,  Monsieur,  may 
I  ask?" 

"  Because  I  am  armed,  and  you  are  not." 


Gbe  JBoss  of  tbe  Wbeel  209 


At  the  word  Dirke  had  drawn  his  right  hand 
from  his  pocket  ;  the  barrel  of  a  pistol  gleamed 
white  between  them. 

The  Frenchman  recoiled.  His  face  was  not 
pleasant  to  look  upon,  yet  his  antagonist 
would  have  been  sorry  to  lose  the  sight  of  it. 

Dirke  stood,  tall  and  slim  and  commanding, 
his  face  set  in  the  accustomed  lines.  No 
emotion  whatever  was  to  be  seen  there,  not 
even  contempt  for  the  man  who  shrank  from 
sure  death  in  such  a  cause.  For  fully  twenty 
vSeconds  they  faced  each  other  in  the  glaring 
light  of  the  saloon,  pent  up  passion  visible  in 
the  one,  invisible  in  the  other.  In  Dirke1  s 
face,  and  bearing,  however,  devoid  as  it  was 
of  any  emotion,  one  quality  was  but  the  more 
recognizable  for  that,  and  the  count  knew 
that  the  man  before  him  was  available  as  an 
antagonist. 

"  Monsieur,"  he  said,  with  strong  self- 
control,  "it  is  possible  that  you  do  not  un 
derstand — that  you  are  not  aware — that — 
Monsieur  !  The  ring  which  you  are  pleased 
to  wear  so — so — conspicuously  is  the  property 
of —  The  ring,  Monsieur,  is  sacred  to  me  !  " 

<l  Sacred  !  "     Dirke    repeated.      "  Sacred  !  " 
The   word   was   an    arraignment,    not    to    be 
overlooked. 
14 


Ipeafc  anfc  prairie 


"  Monsieur  !  "  the  count  cried. 

' '  I  was  merely  struck  by  your  peculiar  treat 
ment  of  sacred  things,"  Dirke  replied,  his  tone 
dropping  to  the  level  of  absolute  indifference. 
"  It  is — unconventional,  to  say  the  least." 

He  lifted  his  hand  and  examined  the  ring  with 
an  air  of  newly  aroused  interest.  He  wondered, 
half-contemptuously,  at  the  man's  self-control. 

"  Monsieur,"  he  heard  him  say.  ;'  You  are 
a  gentleman  ;  I  perceive  it  beneath  the  disguise 
of  your  vocation, — of  your  conduct.  When  I 
say  to  you  that  the  sight  of  that  ring  upon  your 
finger  compromises  my  honor, — that  it  is  an 
insult  to  me, — you  comprehend  ;  is  it  not  so?  " 

''Quite  so,"  Dirke  replied,  with  carefully 
studied  offensiveness. 

"Then,  Monsieur,  it  will  perhaps  be  possible 
at  another  time  to  correct  the  inequality  in  point 
of  arms  to  which  you  have  called  my  attention." 
The  challenge  was  admirably  delivered. 

"  I  should  think  nothing  could  be  simpler," 
Dirke  rejoined,  and  he  deliberately  put  his 
pistol  in  his  pocket. 

They  parted  without  more  words,  de  L,ys 
stumbling  once  as  he  made  his  way  along  the 
uneven  sidewalk,  Dirke  keeping  on  across  the 
barren  upland,  sure-footed  and  serene. 

It  had  come  at  last,  his  great  opportunity  ; 


Cbe  JBoss  of  tbe  TClbeel  211 


all  the  evil  in  his  nature  was  roused  at  last ; 
jealousy,  vindictiveness,  unscrupulousness.  He 
gloated  over  his  own  iniquity  ;  every  feature 
of  it  rejoiced  him.  He  had  no  moral  right 
to  that  ring,— all  the  dearer  his  possession  of 
it !  This  man  had  never  injured  him  ;— the 
more  delicious  his  hatred  of  him .  The  French 
man  with  his  exasperating  air  of  success  was 
to  him  the  insolent  embodiment  of  that  which 
had  been  wrongfully  wrested  from  him,  Dab- 
ney  Dirke,  who  had  as  good  a  right  to  success 
as  another.  Some  philanthropists,  made  such 
by  prosperity  and  ease,  spent  their  lives  in  try 
ing  to  even  things  off  by  raising  the  condition 
of  their  fellow-creatures  to  their  own.  Well, 
he  had  the  same  object  to  be  attained,  by  differ 
ent  means.  He  would  even  things  off  by 
grading  to  his  own  level.  Was  not  that  a 
perfectly  logical  aim,  given  the  circumstances 
which  induced  it  ? 

He  lifted  his  hand  and  moved  it  to  and  fro, 
that  he  nright  catch  the  gleam  of  the  stones  in 
the  faint  starlight.  In  the  mere  joy  of  seeing 
the  ring  there  upon  his  finger  he  almost  forgot 
for  the  moment  what  its  significance  was.  It 
scarcely  reminded  him  just  then  of  the  girl  with 
the  tearful  eyes,  usually  so  present  with  him. 
Her  face  seemed  to  be  receding  from  his 


212  ipeafe  anfc  iprairie 

memory  ;  the  whole  story  of  his  life  seemed  to 
grow  dim  and  ill- defined.  His  mind  was  curi 
ously  elate  with  a  sense  of  achievement,  a 
certainty  that  he  was  near  the  goal,  that  fulfil 
ment  was  at  hand. 

He  was  still  pursuing  his  way  up  the  hill, 
walking  slowly,  with  bent  head,  like  a  philoso 
pher  in  revery,  when  he  became  aware  that  the 
day  was  dawning.  The  stars  were  growing 
dim  and  vanishing  one  by  one,  in  the  pale 
light  which  came  like  a  veil  across  their  radi 
ance.  A  dull,  creeping  regret  invaded  his 
mind.  He  had  loved  the  stars,  he  could  have 
studied  them  with  joy.  ;  under  a  happier  fate  he 
might  have  been  high  in  their  counsels.  As  he 
watched  their  obliteration  in  the  dawn  of  a  day 
deliberately  dedicated  to  evil,  a  profound  yearn 
ing  for  their  pure  tranquil  eternal  light  came 
upon  him,  and  as  Jupiter  himself  withdrew 
into  the  impenetrable  spaces,  Dirke  turned  his 
eyes  downward  with  a  long,  shuddering  sigh. 
His  downcast  gaze  fell  upon  the  poor  earthly 
brilliance  of  the  diamonds. 

It  was  not  until  he  heard  from  the  count,  a 
few  hours  later,  that  Dirke  found  himself  re 
stored  to  the  state  of  mind  which  he  was 
pleased  to  consider  natural.  The  call  for 
action  dissipated  his  misgivings,  carried  him 


Cbe  B060  of  tbe  TKHbeel  213 


beyond  the  reach  of  doubts  and  regrets,  gave 
him  an  assurance  that  Fate  had  at  last  ranged 
itself  on  his  side.  For  even  if  duelling  were 
not  a  peculiarly  un-American  institution,  it  is 
a  mode  of  warfare  of  such  refinement  and 
elaborateness,  as  to  be  utterly  foreign  to  the 
atmosphere  of  a  mining-camp,  and  Dirke 
could  only  regard  the  challenge  which  came 
to  him  in  due  form  and  order  that  morning,  as 
a  special  interposition  of  those  darker  powers 
which  he  had  so  long,  and  hitherto  so  vainly 
invoked.  He  went  about  his  preparations  for 
the  meeting  in  an  exaltation  of  spirit,  such  as 
he  had  never  before  experienced.  Paradoxical 
as  it  may  seem,  absurd  as  it  really  was,  he  was 
sustained,  uplifted,  by  the  sense  of  immolating 
himself  upon  the  altar  of  an  ideal  cause.  He 
was  about  to  do  an  ideally  evil  thing,  to  the 
accomplishment  of  an  ideally  evil  end.  Insane 
as  this  feeling  was,  it  was  his  inspiration,  and 
he  felt  himself,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life, 
acting  consistently,  courageously,  confidently. 
The  meeting  took  place  on  a  remote,  bar 
ren  hillside,  on  the  edge  of  a  dead  forest 
whose  gaunt  stems  stood  upright,  or  leaned 
against  each  other,  a  weird,  unearthly  com 
pany.  As  Dirke  arrived  with  his  second, — a  sat 
urnine  Kentuckian,  with  a  duelling  record  of 


214  fceafe  anfc  prairie 


his  own, — he  glanced  about  the  desolate  spot 
thinking  it  well  chosen.  Only  one  feature  of 
the  scene  struck  him  as  incongruous.  It  was  a 
prickly  poppy  standing  there,  erect  and  stiff, 
its  coarse,  harsh  stem  and  leaves  repellant 
enough,  yet  bearing  on  its  crest  a  single  flower, 
a  wide  white  silken  wonder,  curiously  at  va 
riance  with  the  spirit  of  the  scene.  Dirke 
impatiently  turned  away  from  the  contempla 
tion  of  it,  which  had  for  an  instant  fascinated 
him,  and  faced,  instead,  the  count,  who  was 
approaching  from  below,  accompanied  by  his 
friend  and  countryman. 

Shots  were  to  be  exchanged  but  once,  and 
though  the  principals  were  both  good  shots, 
the  seconds  anticipated  nothing  serious.  The 
count,  for  his  part,  was  not  desirous  of  killing 
his  adversary,  and  he  had  no  reason  to  suppose 
that  the  latter  thirsted  for  his  blood.  He  con 
sidered  the  incident  which  had  led  to  this 
unpleasant  situation  as  a  mere  freak  on  the 
part  of  this  morose  individual  whom  he  had 
unfortunately  run  afoul  of.  He  had,  indeed, 
moments  of  wondering  whether  the  man  were 
quite  in  his  right  mind. 

Dirke  wore  the  ring,  and  he  gloried  in  wear 
ing  it,  as  he  took  his  place,  elate,  exultant,  yet 
perfectly  self-contained. 


36068  of  tbe  THHbeel  215 


''Are  you  ready?"  the  Kentuckian  asked, 
and  the  sense  of  being  "  ready  "  thrilled  him 
through  every  nerve. 

At  the  given  signal,  Dirke  raised  his  pistol 
in  deliberate,  deadly  aim.  De  I^ys  saw  it,  and 
a  subtle  change  swept  his  face,  while  he  in 
stantly  readjusted  his  own  aim.  In  Dirke' s 
countenance  there  was  no  change,  no  slightest 
trace  of  any  emotion  whatever.  Yet  both 
seconds  perceived,  in  the  flash  of  time  allowed, 
that  the  combat  was  to  be  a  mortal  one,  and 
that  it  was  Dirke  who  had  thus  decreed  it. 

And  then  it  was,  in  that  crucial  moment,  that 
Dirke' s  groping  soul  came  out  into  the  light, — 
even  as  the  wide  white  flower  over  yonder  had 
come  out  into  the  light,  springing  from  its 
grim,  unsightly  stem.  In  that  flashing  instant 
of  time  his  true  nature,  which  he  had  so  long 
sought  to  belie,  took  final  command.  All  that 
was  false,  fantastic,  artificial,  loosed  its  hold 
and  fell  away.  For  the  first  time  in  two  years 
Dabney  Dirke  was  perfectly  sane. 

At  the  word  to  fire,  he  did  the  one  thing 
possible  to  the  man  he  was  ;  his  pistol  flashed 
straight  upwards. 

The  two  shots  rang  out  simultaneously, 
setting  the  echoes  roaring  among  the  hills. 
Dirke  staggered,  but  recovered  his  foothold 


216  jpeafc  and  prairie 


again  and  stood  an  instant,  swaying  slightly, 
while  he  slowly,  with  an  absent  look  in  his  face 
and  in  his  eyes,  drew  the  ring  from  his  finger. 
As  de  Lys  came  up,  he  dropped  the  trinket  at 
his  feet.  Then,  slowly,  heavily,  he  sank  back, 
and  the  men  gently  lowered  him  to  the  ground. 

De  L,ys  knelt  beside  him,  white  with  con 
sternation. 

"  Monsieur  !  "  he  cried  ;  "  Monsieur  !  It 
was  a  misunderstanding  !  I  mistook  you 
wholly  !  And  you,  you  were  magnanimous  ! 
Ah,  mon  Dieu  !  " 

And  then  a  wonder  came  to  pass,  for  Dabney 
Dirke's  lips  parted  in  a  smile.  The  smile  was 
faint,  yet  indescribably  sweet,  and  the  voice 
was  faint,  and  far-away,  in  which  he  murmured 
brokenly  ;  "  It  was — a  message — to — the  stars." 

The  horror  in  the  faces  bending  over  him 
was  lost  in  a  look  of  awe.  There  was  an  in 
fluence  mystically  soothing  in  the  dying  man's 
wrords.  The  dry,  soft  air  played  about  the 
group,  rustling  the  short,  sparse  grass.  It 
seemed  the  only  motion  left  in  a  hushed  and 
reverent  world. 

Then,  as  the  smile  deepened  upon  his  face, 
fixed  there  by  the  hand  of  death,  the  lips 
parted  for  the  last  time,  and  Dirke  whispered  ; 
"  I  am  going  — in — for  astronomy  !  " 


VIII. 


MR.   FETHERBEE'S  ADVENTURE. 


|\A  R.  FETHERBEE  was  in  his  element,— a 
'  *  *  fact  which  the  casual  observer  would 
have  found  it  hard  to  believe  ;  for  he  was  a  dap 
per  little  gentleman,  dainty  in  his  attire  and 
presumably  fastidious  as  to  his  surroundings, 
and  these  last  were,  in  the  present  instance, 
hardly  calculated  to  suit  a  fastidious  taste.  In 
a  word,  Mr.  Fetherbee  was  ' '  doing  ' '  Lame 
Gulch,  doing  it  from  the  tourist's  standpoint, 
delighting  in  every  distinctive  feature  of  the 
rough-and-ready,  sordid,  picturesque,  ' '  rust 
ling  ' '  young  mining-camp. 

He  was  a  popular  little  man,  and  he  had 
been  received  with  open  arms,  so  to  speak,  by 
the  Springtown  contingent,  when  he  had  put 
in  an  appearance  the  day  before  at  the  Moun 
tain  Lion.  He  had  arrived  in  a  state  of  high 
good  humor,  induced  by  the  stage  ride  from 
the  railroad  terminus,  which  he  had  accom- 
217 


peafc  anfc 


plished,  perched  upon  the  topmost  seat  of  the 
big  "  Concord,"  scraping  acquaintance  with  a 
miscellaneous  lot  of  pilgrims,  all  bound  to  the 
same  conglomerate  Mecca.  Indeed,  so  charmed 
had  he  been  with  the  manners  and  language 
of  his  fellow-passengers,  that  it  is  to  be  feared 
that  he  did  but  scant  justice  to  the  superb 
scenery  spread  out  for  the  delectation  of  the 
traveller.  There  were  moments,  to  be  sure, 
when  a  line  of  gleaming  snow-caps  visible 
through  the  interstices  of  a  tract  of  starveling 
trees  would  arrest  his  attention  ;  yet  the  more 
moving  and  dramatic  interest  of  some  chance 
utterance  in  his  immediate  vicinity,  was  sure 
to  recall  him  to  a  delighted  contemplation  of  a 
rakish  sombrero  or  of  a  doubtfully  ' '  diamond  ' ' 
scarf-pin.  When,  at  last,  the  stage  reached 
the*  edge  of  the  sort  of  basin  in  which  the 
camp  lies,  and  began  the  descent  of  the  last 
declivity,  he  could  scarcely  contain  himself  for 
.sheer  joy.  What,  to  him,  were  the  glories  of 
the  encircling  peaks,  the  unfolding  wonders  of 
this  heart  of  the  Rockies,  compared  with  the 
actual  sight  of  the  mushroom  growth  of  pine 
huts  and  canvas  tents,  straggling  sparsely  up 
the  hill,  centring  closely  in  the  valley  ? 
Children  and  dogs  tumbled  over  each  other  on 
the  barren  slope  which  looked  like  one  vast 


.  jjfetberbee'6  Bfcventure  219 


back  yard  ;  donkeys  grazed  there,  apparently 
fattening  upon  a  rich  diet  of  tin  cans  and 
shavings.  Over  yonder  was  a  charred  heap 
which  had  once  been  a  building  of  some  pre 
tension,  as  was  evident  from  the  rude  stone 
foundation  which  the  blackened  timbers  leaned 
against.  So  Lame  Gulch  had  its  history,  its 
traditions,  its  ruin.  The  charred  timbers 
already  looked  older  than  the  everlasting  hills 
that  towered  on  every  hand,  wrapped  in  the 
garment  of  eternal  youth. 

"  What  a  lot  of  houses  there  are  here,"  Mr. 
Fetherbee  remarked  to  his  next  neighbor,  a 
seamy  old  reprobate  with  an  evil  eye. 

"  Hm  !  "  was  the  reply,  the  articulate  pro 
fanity  of  which  was  lost  in  a  cloud  of  the 
thickest,  vilest  tobacco  smoke.  "  Ever  seen  a 
mining-camp  when  the  stuff  's  given  out  ?  " 

' '  No  ;  what  does  it  look  like  ?  ' ' 

"Like  a  heap  of  bloomin'  peanut-shells 
chucked  in  a  corner." 

At  the  Mountain  Lion  were  Allery  Jones, 
Harry  de  Luce,  Dick  Dayton  "the  mascot," 
and  half  a  dozen  other  Springtown  men,  and 
they  pounced  upon  the  new-comer  with  every 
flattering  indication  of  delight. 

Mr.  Fetherbee  had  been  but  six  months  a 
resident  of  Springtown,  but  it  had  hardly  taken 


peak  an£>  prairie 


as  many  days  for  Springtown  to  make  the  dis 
covery  that  he  was  the  king  of  story-tellers. 
He  and  his  wife  had  taken  up  their  residence 
in  that  most  delightful  of  health  resorts,  and, 
having  definitively  closed  up  his  affairs  in  the 
East,  he  had  entered  upon  the  Western  life 
with  keen  zest.  In  one  particular  only  he  was 
apparently  destined  here  as  elsewhere  to  the 
disappointment  which  had  dogged  his  footsteps 
from  childhood  up.  Fortune  had  treated  him 
kindly  in  many  respects ;  she  had  given  him 
health  and  prosperity,  she  had  bestowed  upon 
him  a  host  of  friends,  and  the  wife  of  his 
choice, — a  choice  which  fifteen  years  of  rather 
exceptional  happiness  had  amply  justified, — 
best  of  all,  he  was  endowed  with  an  unfailing 
relish  for  these  blessings  :  yet  in  the  one  burn 
ing  desire  of  his  heart  he  had  been  persistently 
frustrated.  He  had  never  had  an  adventure. 

Men  he  knew  had  found  this  crowning  bliss 
ready  to  their  hand.  There  was  his  old  chum, 
Jack  Somers,  who  had  been  actually  ship 
wrecked  among  the  Azores;  there  was  Caleb 
Fitz  who  had  once  stopped  a  runaway  horse 
and  saved  the  lives  of  two  beauteous  ladies, 
getting  a  corresponding  number  of  his  own  ribs 
broken  into  the  bargain  ;  lucky  dog  !  There 
was  that  miserable  little  cad,  Sandy  Seakum, 


.  tfetberbee's  adventure  221 


who  had  been  in  Boston  at  the  big  fire  of  72, 
and  had  done  something  he  was  forever  brag 
ging  about  in  the  way  of  saving  a  lot  of  bonds 
and  other  securities  belonging  to  his  father-in- 
law.  But  for  Mr.  Fetherbee  there  had  been  no 
such  honors.  He  had  never  met  so  much  as  a 
savage  dog  ;  the  very  burglars  had  declined  to 
concern  themselves  with  his  house  ;  and  once 
when  the  top  story  of  a  hotel  he  was  sleeping 
in  had  caught  fire,  and  prodigies  of  valor  were 
performed  in  the  rescue  of  the  inmates  tinder 
the  roof,  he  had  disgraced  himself  irretrievably 
in  his  own  eyes  by  sleeping  through  the  night 
unconscious  of  any  disturbance.  It  was  per 
haps  this  unsatisfied  craving  for  adventures  of 
his  own  which  gave  such  a  vivid  coloring  to  his 
anecdotes  of  other  men's  exploits  ;  possibly 
too,  his  sense  of  humor,  which  had  an  entirely 
individual  flavor,  had  been  quickened  by  a  sly 
appreciation  of  his  own  oddities. 

On  the  evening  of  his  arrival  at  lyame  Gulch, 
Mr.  Fetherbee  had  outdone  himself.  He  had 
sat,  the  centre  of  an  appreciative  group,  in  the 
corner  of  the  big  office,  well  away  from  the 
roaring  wood  fire,  his  chair  tilted  back  against 
the  wall,  his  hat  on  the  back  of  his  head, 
spouting  entertainment  in  an  uninterrupted 
stream.  Not  that  Mr.  Fetherbee  was  in  the 


222  peak  anD  prairie 


habit  of  tilting  his  chair  back,  or,  for  the 
matter  of  that,  of  wearing  his  hat  on  the  back 
of  his  head.  But  here,  at  Lame  Gulch,  he 
felt  it  incumbent  upon  him  to  enter  as  far  as 
was  practicable  into  the  spirit  of  the  piece.  As 
he  sat,  enveloped  in  smoke  and  surrounded  by 
the  familiar  forms  of  his  Springtown  cronies,  he 
was  obliged  to  admit  that  the  "piece"  in 
question  had  not  yet  developed  much  action. 
Yet  the  atmosphere  was  electric  with  possibili 
ties,  and  the  stage  was  well  peopled  with 
"characters,"  not  one  of  which  escaped  the 
watchful  eye  of  Mr.  Fetherbee.  A  ' '  character  ' ' 
he  would  have  defined  as  a  picturesque  and 
lawless  being,  given  to  claim-jumping,  murder, 
and  all  ungodliness  ;  these  qualities  finding 
expression  in  a  countenance  at  once  fascinating 
and  forbidding,  a  bearing  at  once  stealthy  and 
imperious.  If  no  single  one  of  the  slouching, 
dark-browed  apparitions  that  crossed  his  vision 
could  be  said  to  fulfil  all  these  requirements, 
the  indications  scattered  among  them  were 
sufficiently  suggestive  to  have  an  exhilarating 
effect  upon  the  genial  little  story-teller. 

And  now  it  was  morning  and  the  serious 
business  of  the  day  had  begun.  He  was  off 
for  "the  mines"  with  Dick  Dayton,  Allery 
Jones,  and  Frank  Discombe, — a  young  mining 


.  tfetberbee's  BDventurc  223 


engineer  who  was  far  more  proud  of  his  attain 
ments  as  "Jehu,"  than  of  his  really  brilliant 
professional  reputation.  They  rattled  noisily 
along  the  main  street  of  the  camp  in  a  loose- 
jointed  vehicle  drawn  by  two  ambitious  steeds 
which  Allery  Jones  characterized  as  ' '  fiery 
skeletons. ' '  It  was  a  glorious  September  morn 
ing,  and  though  there  had  been  a  heavy  frost 
in  the  night,  the  sensitive  mountain  air  was 
already,  two  or  three  hours  after  sunrise, 
warmed  and  mellowed  through  and  through. 
The  road  soon  began  to  rise,  taking  a  fine 
sweep  about  the  shoulder  of  Bear  Mountain, 
and  then  making  its  way  over  obstacles  of  a 
pronounced  nature,  through  a  very  poor  and 
peaked  ' '  virgin  forest. ' '  The  wood-cutter 
had  hacked  his  way  right  and  left,  combining 
a  quest  for  firewood  with  his  efforts  in  the  ser 
vice  of  the  road-builder,  scorning  to  remove 
stumps  and  roots,  delighting  in  sharp  corners 
and  meaningless  digressions.  The  horses 
struggled  gallantly  on,  sometimes  marching 
like  a  sculptor's  creation,  elevated  on  a  huge 
pedestal  of  rock  above  the  wagon  which 
grovelled  behind,  its  wheels  sunk  to  their  hubs 
in  the  ruts  on  either  side  ; — sometimes  plung 
ing  into  unexpected  depressions,  which  brought 
their  backs  below  the  level  of  the  dasher.  The 


224  fteafc  an£>  ipvairie 

wheels  made  their  individual  way  as  best  they 
could,  without  the  slightest  reference  to  one 
another.  At  one  moment  Mr.  Fetherbee 
perched  with  Dayton  on  the  larboard  end  of 
the  rear  axle-tree  ;  a  moment  later  he  found 
himself  obliterated  beneath  the  burly  form  of 
the  latter,  whom  the  exigencies  of  mountain 
travel  had  flung  to  the  starboard  side.  Re 
leased  from  Dayton's  crushing  weight,  his 
small  person  jounced  freely  about,  or  came  but 
ting  against  Discombe's  back  in  the  most  spon 
taneous  manner  possible.  The  threatened 
dislocation  of  his  joints,  the  imminent  cracking 
of  all  his  bones,  the  squeezing  of  his  small 
person  between  the  upper  and  the  nether 
millstones  of  Dayton's  portly  form  and  the 
adamantine  seat-cushions  ;  each  and  every 
incident  of  the  transit  Mr.  Fetherbee  took  in 
perfectly  good  part.  Yet  it  may  be  questioned 
whether  he  would  have  arrived  at  the  goal 
intact,  had  it  not  been  for  the  timely  splitting 
of  an  under-pinning  of  the  wagon,  which  caused 
a  sudden  collapse  in  the  bows  of  the  storm- 
tossed  bark,  and  obliged  the  travellers  to  de 
scend  while  yet  half  a  mile  distant  from  their 
journey's  end. 

The  drive  had  been  a  silent  function,  each 
man  having  been  pre- occupied  with  the  effort 


2Uwenture  225 


to  preserve  the  integrity  of  his  physical  struc 
ture.  Once  on  their  feet,  a  splashed  and 
battered  company,  they  observed  one  another 
critically,  bursting  into  shouts  of  unrestrained 
mirth  over  the  astonishing  hieroglyphics  of 
mud  which  had  inscribed  themselves  upon  their 
respective  countenances.  Mr.  Fetherbee  himself 
looked  like  an  Indian  brave  in  full  war-paint. 

The  day  thus  pleasantly  begun  was  one  of 
divers  experiences,  any  one  of  which  seemed  to 
contain  within  itself  all  the  essential  elements 
of  an  adventure.  More  than  once  Mr.  Fether 
bee  felt,  as  he  jocosely  expressed  it,  as  if  every 
minute  would  be  the  next  !  Thanks  to  Dis~ 
combe's  commanding  position  as  superinten 
dent  of  several  of  the  mines,  they  were  able  to 
investigate  the  situation  pretty  thoroughly. 
They  climbed  up  and  down  ladders,  regardless 
of  the  wear  and  tear  upon  their  breathing  appa 
ratus,  they  hailed  the  discovery  of  "  free  gold  " 
in  a  bit  of  ore  with  as  much  enthusiasm  as  if 
they  had  been  able  to  distinguish  the  micro 
scopic  speck  which  was  agitating  the  minds  of 
foreman  and  superintendent.  Into  one  mine 
they  descended,  two  passengers  at  a  time, 
standing  on  the  edge  of  a  huge  ore-bucket, 
which  was  gently  lowered  down  the  shaft.  It 
was  a  treat  to  see  the  gnomelike  figure  of  Mr. 


226  peafc  an&  prairie 


Fetherbee  poking  about  among  the  rocky  ribs 
of  Mother  Earth,  closely  attended  by  the  flick 
ering  lights  and  weird  shadows  cast  by  the 
tallow-dip  with  which  he  had  prudently  pro 
vided  himself  early  in  the  day.  Emerging  into 
the  light  of  heaven  they  all  rested  for  a  while, 
sprawling  there  upon  the  sun-baked  hillside, 
looking  down  into  a  quiet  wooded  valley  full 
of  brooding  sunshine  and  heavenly  shadows, 
while  their  ears  were  filled  with  the  din  of  the 
ore-bucket,  restored  to  its  legitimate  function, 
rattling  up  the  shaft  and  sending  its  contents 
crashing  down  into  the  dump. 

There  was  but  one  moment  of  the  day  when 
Mr.  Fetherbee' s  spirit  quailed.  His  kind 
friends,  anxious  that  he  should  miss  no  feat 
ure  of  "  local  coloring  "  had  thoughtfully 
conducted  him  to  the  very  worst  of  the  miner's 
boarding-houses,  where  they  all  cheerfully  par 
took  of  strange  and  direful  viands  for  his  sake. 
Mr.  Fetherbee,  shrewdly  suspecting  the  true 
state  of  the  case,  had  unflinchingly  devoured 
everything  that  was  set  before  him,  topping 
off  his  gastronomic  martyrdom  with  a  section 
of  apricot  pie,  of  a  peculiar  consistency  and  a 
really  poignant  flavor.  Just  as  he  had  swal 
lowed  the  last  mouthful,  the  proprietor  of 
"The  Jolly  Drivers"  came  up,  and  Mr. 


Mr.  ffetberbee's  Bfcventure  227 

Fetherbee,  in  the  first  flush  of  victory,  re 
marked :  "Well,  sir!  That  is  a  pie,  and 
no  mistake  ! ' '  Upon  which  the  host,  charmed 
with  this  spontaneous  tribute,  hastened  to  set 
before  his  guest  another  slice.  And  then  it 
was  that  Mr.  Fetherbee,  but  now  so  unflinch 
ing,  so  imperturbable,  laid  down  his  weapons 
and  struck  his  colors.  He  eyed  the  pie,  he 
eyed  his  delighted  fellow-sufferers,  and  then, 
in  a  voice  grown  suddenly  plaintive,  he  said  : 
"Don't  tempt  me,  sir!  It  would  be  against 
my  doctor's  orders  !  ' ' 

But  even  the  memory  of  his  discomfiture 
could  not  long  check  the  flow  of  Mr.  Fether 
bee' s  spirits,  and  ten  minutes  later  the  valiant 
little  trencher-man  was  climbing  with  cheerful 
alacrity  into  the  wagon,  which  had  been,  in 
the  interim,  subjected  to  a  judicious  applica 
tion  of  ropes  and  wires. 

"  Think  she  's  quite  seaworthy?  "  he  asked, 
as  the  structure  groaned  and  ' '  gave ' '  under 
his  light  weight. 

"Guess  she'll  weather  it,"  Discombe 
growled  between  his  teeth  which  were  closed 
upon  the  stem  of  his  pipe.  "  If  she  does  n't, 
there  '11  be  a  circus  !  " 

"  Waves  likely  to  be  as  high  as  they  were 
this  morning  ? ' ' 


228  jpeafc  anD  prairie 


"  No  ;  it 's  a  kind  of  a  double  back-action 
slant  we  've  got  to  tackle  this  time,"  and  off 
they  rattled,  even  more  musically  than  before, 
by  reason  of  the  late  repairs. 

Over  the  brow  of  the  mountain  they  went, 
and  down  on  the  other  side.  For  some  fifteen 
minutes  they  rumbled  along  so  smoothly  that 
the  insatiate  Mr.  Fetherbee  experienced  a 
gnawing  sense  of  disappointment  and  feared 
that  the  fun  was  really  over.  But  presently, 
without  much  warning,  the  road  made  a  sharp 
curve  and  began  pitching  downward  in  the 
most  headlong  manner,  taking  on  at  the  same 
time  a  sharp  lateral  slant.  The  brake  creaked, 
and  screamed,  the  wheels  scraped  and  wab 
bled  in  their  loose-jointed  fashion,  the  horses, 
almost  on  their  haunches,  gave  up  their  usual 
mode  of  locomotion,  and  coasted  unceremoni 
ously  along,  their  four  feet  gathered  together 
in  a  rigid  protest. 

"  Do  you  often  come  this  way  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Fetherbee,  in  a  disengaged  manner. 

' '  Well,  no  ;  "  Discombe  replied,  compos 
edly.  ' '  This  is  my  first  trip.  They  some 
times  haul  the  ore  down  here  on  a  sort  of 
drag,  but  I  guess  these  are  the  first  wheels 

that  ever I  say,  fellows,  you  'd  better  get 

out  and  hang  on.  She  's  slipping  !  " 


.  tfetberbee's  BDventurc 


In  an  instant  all  but  Discombe  had  sprung 
out,  and  seizing  the  side  of  the  wagon,  or  the 
spokes  of  the  stiff  front  wheel,  in  fact  any 
thing  they  could  lay  hands  on,  hung  on  to  the 
endangered  craft  like  grim  fate,  while  Dis 
combe,  standing  on  the  step,  held  the  horses 
up  by  main  force.  There  were  moments  when 
the  longed-for  adventure  seemed  imminent,  and 
Mr.  Fetherbee's  spirits  rose.  He  had  quite 
made  up  his  mind  that  if  the  wagon  went  over 
he  should  go  with  it,  go  with  it  into  "king 
dom  come  '  '  rather  than  let  go  !  He  wondered 
whether  he  should  be  able  to  do  the  situation 
justice  when  he  got  home.  It  was  a  pity  that 
Louisa  could  not  see  them  with  her  own  eyes  ! 
Though,  on  second  thoughts,  he  was  afraid  he 
did  not  present  a  very  dignified  appearance, 
and  if  Louisa  had  a  weakness,  it  consisted  in 
the  fact  that  she  made  a  fetich  of  dignity, 
especially  where  her  vivacious  husband  was 
concerned. 

Meanwhile  the  ground  was  receding  more 
and  more  rapidly  under  his  sliding,  stumbling 
feet,  and  his  eyes  were  full  of  sand.  Dayton 
and  Allery  Jones  were  frankly  puffing  and 
groaning,  but  Mr.  Fetherbee  scorned  to  make 
any  such  concession  to  circumstances.  He 
was  wondering  whether  his  gait  would  be 


230  fceafc  anD  ipratrte 

permanently  out  of  kilter  after  this  compli 
cated  and  violent  scramble,  when  he  became 
aware  that  the  lateral  slant  was  gradually 
lessening.  A  moment  later  he  and  his  two 
companions  had  loosed  their  hold  and  stood 
stretching  and  rubbing  themselves,  while  the 
wagon,  under  Discombe's  pilotage,  continued 
on  its  way,  scooping  the  horses  down  the  hill 
at  an  increasing  rate  of  speed.  Just  above 
where  they  were  standing,  was  a  shed-like 
structure  which  looked  much  the  worse  for 
wind  and  weather. 

"That 's  the  old  shaft  of  the  "  Coreopsis," 
Dayton  remarked. 

(<So  it  is,"  said  Jones.  "Harry  de  Luce 
went  down  on  the  rope  the  other  day." 

11  How  do  you  do  it? "  asked  Mr.  Fetherbee, 
much  interested. 

"  Hand  over  hand,  I  suppose  ;  or  else  you 
just  let  her  slide.  De  Luce  went  down  like 
a  monkey." 

' '  He  must  have  come  up  like  a  monkey  !  I 
don't  see  how  he  did  it  !  " 

"  He  did  n't  come  up  ;  he  went  out  by  the 

tunnel.     It  would  take  more  than  a  monkey  to 

go  up  three  hundred  feet  on  a  slack  rope,  or 

thirty  feet  either,  for  the  matter  of  that." 

As  Mr.  Fetherbee  stood  mopping  his  brow, 


/Ifcr.  tfetberbee's  Bfcventure  231 

thereby  spreading  a  cake  of  mud  which  he 
had  unsuspectingly  worn  since  morning,  in  a 
genial  pattern  over  his  right  temple,  a  con 
suming  ambition  seized  him. 

"Now  that's  something  I  should  like  to 
do,"  he  declared.  "Anything  to  prevent?" 

"Why,  no;  not  if  you're  up  to  that  kind 
of  thing.  They  're  doing  it  every  day." 

"  Why  don't  you  go  down  that  way  now  ?  " 
Dayton  asked.  "We  shall  be  driving  right 
by  the  tunnel  in  an  hour  or  two,  and  can  pick 
you  up." 

By  this  time  they  had  effected  an  entrance 
into  the  shed,  the  door  of  which  was  securely 
locked,  while  the  boards  of  one  entire  side 
of  the  tumble-down  structure  swung  in  at  a 
touch.  The  three  men  stood  looking  down 
the  pitch  black  hole  into  which  the  rope  dis 
appeared. 

"  Looks  kind  of  pokey,  does  n't  it  ?  "  said 
Allery  Jones.  "Think  you'd  better  try  it, 
Fetherbee?" 

For  answer,  Mr.  Fetherbee  seized  the  lightly 
swinging  rope  with  both  hands,  twisted  one 
leg  about  it  and  slid  gaily  from  sight. 

"  Bon  voyage!"  called  Dayton,  down  the 
inky  shaft. 

' '  Yage  ! ' '  came   a   hollow  voice  from   the 


232  peak  an£>  prairie 


reverberating  depths.  They  felt  of  the  rope 
which  was  taut  and  firm. 

"  He  's  all  right,"  said  Dayton.  "There  's 
not  enough  of  him  to  get  hurt,"  and  he 
squeezed  his  portly  person  out  between  the 
flapping  boards. 

' '  All  the  same,  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  him 
again,"  Jones  declared,  with  an  anxious  frown 
upon  his  usually  nonchalant  countenance  ;  and 
the  two  men  started  briskly  down  the  hill  in 
pursuit  of  "  the  team." 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Fetherbee  was  making  his 
way  slowly  and  cautiously  down  the  rope.  It 
was  a  good  stout  one  and  he  had  no  real  mis 
givings.  Yet  the  situation  was  unusual  enough 
to  have  a  piquant  flavor.  In  the  first  place 
the  darkness  was  more  than  inky  in  character, 
the  kind  of  blackness  in  comparison  with  which 
the  blackest  night  seems  luminous.  Then 
there  was  the  peculiar  quality  of  the  air,  so 
different  from  anything  above  ground,  that  the 
words  chill,  and  dampness,  had  no  special  re 
lation  to  it.  In  the  strange,  tomb-like  silence, 
his  own  breath,  his  own  movements,  waked  a 
ghostly,  whispering  echo  which  was  extremely 
weird  and  suggestive.  Mr.  Fetherbee  was  en 
chanted.  He  felt  that  he  was  getting  down  into 
the  mysterious  heart  of  things ;  that  he  was 


/Ifcr.  tfetberbee's  Bfcventure  233 

having  something  which  came  within  an  ace  of 
being  an  adventure.  Then,  as  he  felt  his  way 
down,  farther  and  farther  below  the  vain  sur 
face  of  things,  that  intervening  ace  vanished, 
and  he  came  up  against  his  adventure  with  a 
suddenness  that  sent  a  knife-like  thrill  to  his 
heart.  His  foot  had  lost  its  hold  of  the  rope  ; 
he  was  hanging  by  his  hands  only. 

Startled  into  what  he  condemned  as  an  un 
reasoning  agitation,  he  began  describing  a 
circle  with  his  leg,  searching  for  the  lost  rope. 
It  must  be  there,  of  course  ;  why,  of  course  it 
must !  He  had  certainly  not  gone  more  than 
fifty  or  sixty  feet,  and  they  had  said  some 
thing  about  three  hundred  feet  ?  Where  could 
the  rope  be  ?  It  must  have  got  caught  some 
how  on  his  coat  !  Or  perhaps  his  right 
leg  was  getting  numb  and  he  could  not  feel 
anything  with  it.  But  no  !  His  leg  was  all 
right.  He  felt  out  with  his  left  leg.  It  did 
not  even  touch  the  wall  of  the  shaft.  There 
seemed  to  be  nothing  there,  nothing  at  all  ! 
Nothing  there  ?  Nothing  in  all  the  universe, 
but  this  bit  of  rope  he  was  clutching,  and 
himself,  a  miserable  little  lump  of  quivering, 
straining  nerves. 

Mr.  Fetherbee  told  himself  that  this  would 
never  do.  He  loosed  the  grip  of  his  left  hand, 


234  peafc  an£>  prairie 

and  it  felt  its  way  slowly  down  the  rope  gather 
ing  it  up  inch  by  inch.  He  knew  by  the  light 
ness  of  the  rope  that  the  end  was  there,  yet 
when  he  touched  it  a  shiver  went  through  him. 
A  second  later  the  left  hand  was  clutching  the 
rope  beside  the  right,  and  he  had  taken  a  long 
breath  of, — was  it  relief?  Relief  from  uncer 
tainty,  at  least.  He  knew  with  a  positive 
knowledge  that  there  was  but  one  outcome  for 
the  situation.  It  would  be  an  hour  at  the  very 
least  before  his  friends  reached  the  tunnel,  for 
Discombe  had  business  to  attend  to  on  the  way. 
Even  then  they  might  not  conclude  immedi 
ately  that  anything  was  amiss.  The  break  in 
the  rope  must  be  recent.  It  was  possible  that 
no  one  in  the  mine  had  discovered  it.  The  old 
shaft  was  never  used  now-a-days,  except  for 
just  such  chance  excursions  as  his.  One  thing 
was  sure, — he  could  never  hold  out  an  hour. 
Already  his  wrists  were  weakening  ;  he  was 
getting  chilled  too,  now  that  motion  had  ceased. 
He  gave  himself  twenty  minutes  at  the  most, 
and  then  ? — Hm  !  He  wondered  what  it  would 
be  like  !  He  had  heard  that  people  falling 
from  a  great  height  had  the  breath  knocked 
out  of  them  before  they — arrived  !  He  was 
afraid  three  hundred  feet  was  not  high  enough 
for  that  !  What  a  pity  the  shaft  was  not  a 


.  ffetberbee'a  aoventitrc 


235 


thousand  feet  deep  !     What  a  pity  it  had  any 
bottom  at  all  ! 

"I  should  have  liked  a  chance  to  tell 
Louisa,"  he  said  aloud,  with  a  short,  nervous 
laugh,  and  then,— he  was  himself  a^ain 

To  say  that  Mr.  Fetherbee  was  himself 
again  is  to  say  that  he  was  a  self-possessed  and 
plucky  httle  gentleman,-the  same  gallant  little 
gentleman,  dangling  here  at  the  end  of  a  rope 
with  the  steady  irresistible  force  of  gravitation 
pulling  him  to  his  doom,  as  he  had  ever  been 
>n  his  gay,  debonair  progress  through  a  safe 
and  fnendly  world.  He  forced  his  though 
away  from  the  horror  to  come.  His  imaglna- 

iZr  v     K^f  °Ut  °f  that  yaW'""S  h°™. 
though   his   body   must  be   inevitably   drawn 

down  into  it  as  by  a  thousand  clutching  hands 
He  forced  his  thoughts  back  to  the  pleasant 
prosperous  hfe  he  had  led  ;  to  the  agreeable 
people  he  had  known;  and  most  tender? 
most  warmly,  he  thought  of  Lotiisa.-LouisV 
3  kind,  so  sympathetic,  so  companionable 

Louisa,"  he  had  said  to  her  one  day'  "I 
not  only  love  you,  but  I  like  you."  WeU>  so 
it  had  been  with  his  life,  that  pleasant  life  of 
his  He  not  only  loved  it  but  he  liked  it!  As 
he  looked  back  over  its  course,  in  a  spirit  of 
calm  contemplation,  the  achievement  of  which 


636  fceafc  ati6  prairie 


he  did  not  consider  in  the  least  heroic,  he  came 
to  the  deliberate  conclusion  that  he  had  had 
his  share.  After  a  little  more  consideration 
his  mind,  with  but  a  quickly  suppressed  recoil, 
adopted  the  conviction  that  it  was  perhaps 
better  to  go  suddenly  like  this,  than  to  have 
been  subjected  to  a  long,  lingering  illness. 

His  wrists  were  becoming  more  and  more 
weak  and  shaky,  and  there  was  a  sense  of 
emptiness  within  him,  natural  perhaps,  con 
sidering  the  quality  of  his  noon-day  meal. 
His  thoughts  began  to  hover,  with  a  curious 
bitterness  over  the  memory  of  that  apricot  pie. 
It  was  the  one  thing  that  interfered  with 
the  even  tenor  of  his  philosophical  reflections. 
The  most  singular  resentment  toward  it  had 
taken  possession  of  his  mind. 

"  lyook  here,"  he  said  to  himself;  "  1 11  get 
my  mind  clear  of  that  confounded  pie,  and 
then  I  '11  drop  and  have  done  with  it."  He 
knew  very  well  that  he  could  not  keep  his  hold 
two  minutes  longer,  and  he  was  determined  to 
"  die  game." 

For  a  few  seconds  Mr.  Fetherbee  very  nearly 
lost  his  mental  grip.  It  seemed  to  be  loosen 
ing,  loosening,  just  as  his  fingers  were  doing. 
Then,  as  in  a  sort  of  trance,  there  rose  before 
him  a  visible  picture  of  the  pleasant,  kindly 


Mr.  tfetberbee's  BDventure  237 


face  he  had  so  warmly  loved,  so  heartily  liked. 
Still  in  a  trance-like  condition,  he  became  aware 
that  that  was  the  impression  he  would  like  to 
carry  with  .him  into  eternity.  He  let  it  sink 
quietly  into  his  soul,  a  soothing,  fortifying 
draught  ;  then,  unconscious  of  philosophy,  of 
heroism,  of  whatever  we  may  choose  to  call  the 
calm  acceptance  of  the  inevitable,  he  loosed 
his  hold. 

He  fell  of  course  only  three  inches.  Any 
body  might  have  foreseen  it,  anybody,  that  is, 
who  had  not  been  suspended  at  the  end  of  a 
rope  in  a  pitch  black  hole.  There  is,  however, 
something  more  convincing  in  experience  than 
in  anything  else,  and,  as  we  have  seen,  Mr. 
Fetherbee  had  not  once  thought  of  the  possi 
bility  of  a  friendly  platform  close  beneath  his 
feet.  The  discovery  of  it  was  none  the  less  ex 
hilarating.  He  did  not  in  the  least  understand 
it,  but  he  was  entirely  ready  to  believe  in  it. 

He  promptly  pulled  out  his  match-box  and 
the  bit  of  candle  he  was  provided  with.  The 
dim,  uncertain  light  cheered  and  warmed  his 
very  soul. 

He  found  himself  standing  on  a  broad  stout 
plank,  built  securely  across  the  shaft.  From 
the  under  side  of  this  plank  hung  a  rope  like 
the  one.  gently  swaying  before  his  eyes,  He 


238  f>eafc  and  prairie 


was  saved  ;  and  as  he  breathed  something  very 
like  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving,  it  suddenly 
struck  him  that  he  had  escaped  not  only  an 
untimely,  but  an  undignified  end.  "I'm  glad 
I  have  n't  done  anything  to  mortify  I^ouisa," 
he  said  to  himself,  and  he  felt  that  he  had 
not  until  that  moment  appreciated  his  good 
fortune  ! 

He  looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  nearly  half- 
an-hour  since  he  had  entered  the  mine.  He 
stamped  his  feet  on  the  plank  and  rubbed  his 
hands  together  to  get  up  the  circulation,  and 
then  he  pulled  out  a  cigar  and  lighted  it.  The 
first  whiff  permeated  his  being  with  a  sense  as 
of  food  and  drink,  sunshine  and  sweet  air. 

The  rest  of  the  descent  was  accomplished  by 
means  of  a  succession  of  ropes  suspended  from 
a  succession  of  platforms. 

An  hour  later,  when  the  wagon  drove  up  to 
the  mouth  of  the  tunnel,  Mr.  Fetherbee  was 
found  standing  serenely  there,  with  a  half  fin 
ished  cigar  between  his  lips,  gazing  abstract 
edly  at  the  landscape. 

' '  Hullo,  Fetherbee  ! ' '  Dayton  sung  out,  as 
they  approached.  "  How  was  it  ?  " 

' '  First  rate  !  ' '  came  the  answer,  in  a  voice  of 
suppressed  elation,  which  Allery  Jones  noted 
and  was  at  something  of  a  loss  to  interpret, 


/I&r.  tfetberbee's  BDventuve  239 

' '  Was  it  all  your  fancy  pictured  ?  "  he  asked, 
in  rather  a  sceptical  tone. 

"  All  and  more  !  "     Mr.  Fetherbee  declared. 

He  mounted  into  the  wagon,  and  the  horses 
started  on  the  home-stretch,  not  more  joyful  in 
the  near  prospect  of  their  well-earned  orgie  of 
oats  and  hay  than  Mr.  Fetherbee  in  the  feast  of 
narration  which  was  spread  for  him.  Finding 
it  impossible  to  contain  himself  another  mo 
ment,  he  cried,  with  an  exultant  ring  in  his 
voice:  "But  I  say,  you  fellows  !  I've  had 
an  adventure  !  ' ' 

Then,  as  they  bowled  along  through  a  wind 
ing  valley  in  which  the  early  September  twilight 
was  fast  deepening,  Mr.  Fetherbee  gave  his  in 
itial  version  of  what  has  since  become  a  classic, 
known  among  the  ever-increasing  circle  of  Mr. 
Fetherbee' s  friends  as— "  An  adventure  I  once 
had!" 


IX. 

AN   AMATEUR   GAMBIA. 

THE  mining  boom  was  on,  and  Springtown, 
that  famous  Colorado  health-resort  and 
paradise  of  idlers,  was  wide  awake  to  the  situ 
ation.  The  few  rods  of  sidewalk  which  might 
fairly  be  called  "  the  street,"  was  thronged  all 
day  with  eager  speculators.  Everybody  was 
"in  it,"  from  the  pillars  of  society  down  to 
the  slenderest  reed  of  an  errand  boy  who 
could  scrape  together  ten  dollars  for  a  ten-cent 
stock.  As  a  natural  consequence  real  estate 
was,  for  the  moment,  as  flat  as  a  poor  joke, 
and  people  who  had  put  their  money  into  town 
"additions"  were  beginning  to  think  seri 
ously  of  planting  potatoes  where  they  had 
once  dreamed  of  rearing  marketable  dwelling- 
houses. 

Hillerton,  the  oldest  real-estate  man  in  town, 
was  one  of  the  few  among  the  fraternity  who 
had  not  branched  out   into   stock  brokerage. 
240 


Bn  Bmateur  (Sample  241 

For  that  reason  an  air  of  leisure  pervaded  his 
office,  and  men  liked  to  gather  there  and  discuss 
the  prospects  of  Lame  Gulch.  Lame  Gulch, 
as  everybody  knows,  is  the  new  Colorado  min 
ing-camp,  which  is  destined  eventually  to  make 
gold  a  drug  in  the  market.  The  camp  is  just 
on  the  other  side  of  the  Peak,  easily  accessible 
to  any  Springtown  man  who  is  not  afraid  of 
roughing  it.  And  to  do  them  justice,  there 
proved  to  be  scarcely  an  invalid  or  a  college- 
graduate  among  them  all  who  did  not  make 
his  way  up  there,  and  take  his  first  taste  of 
hardship  like  a  man. 

Hillerton  used  to  sit  behind  the  balustrade 
which  divided  his  sanctum  from  the  main 
office,  and  listen  with  an  astute  expression, 
and  just  the  glimmer  of  a  smile,  to  the  talk  of 
the  incipient  millionaires,  who  bragged  with 
such  ease  and  fluency  of  this  or  that  Bonanza. 
When  all  declared  with  one  accord  that  "  if 
Lame  Gulch  panned  out  as  it  was  dead  sure  to 
do,  Springtown  would  be  the  biggest  little 
town  in  all  creation,"  Hillerton's  smile  became 
slightly  accentuated,  but  a  wintry  chill  of  incre 
dulity  had  a  neutralizing  effect  upon  it.  As 
the  excitement  increased,  and  his  fellow-towns 
men  manifested  a  willingness  to  mortgage  every 
inch  of  wood  and  plaster  in  their  possession, 


1 6 


242  peafc  anfc  prairie 


Hillerton  merely  became,  if  possible,  more  strin 
gent  in  the  matter  of  securities. 

' '  We  might  as  well  take  a  mortgage  on  the 
town,  and  done  with  it,"  he  remarked  to  his 
confidential  clerk  one  Saturday  evening.  "  We 
shall  own  it  all  in  six  months,  anyhow  !  ' ' 

Peckham,  the  confidential  clerk,  shrugged 
his  shoulders,  and  said  he  ' '  guessed  it  was 
about  so." 

Hillerton' s  confidential  clerk  usually  as 
sented  to  the  dictum  of  his  principal.  It  saved 
trouble  and  hurt  nobody.  Not  that  L,ewis 
Peckham  was  without  opinions  of  his  own  ; 
but  he  took  no  special  interest  in  them,  and 
rarely  put  himself  to  the  trouble  of  defending 
them. 

The  young  man's  countenance  had  never 
been  an  expressive  one,  and  during  the  three 
years  he  had  spent  in  Hillerton' s  employ,  his 
face  had  lost  what  little  mobility  it  had  ever 
possessed.  He  was  a  pale,  hollow-chested  in 
dividual,  with  a  bulging  forehead,  curiously 
marked  eyebrows,  and  a  prominent  and  sensi 
tive  nose.  A  gentleman,  too,  as  anybody  could 
see,  but  a  gentleman  of  a  singularly  unsocial 
disposition.  He  looked  ten  years  older  than 
he  was — an  advantage  which  Hillerton  recog 
nized.  His  grave,  unencouraging  manner  had 


Bn.Bmateuc  (Bamble  243 


a  restraining  effect  upon  too  exacting  tenants  ; 
while  his  actual  youthfulness  gave  Hillerton 
the  advantage  over  him  of  thirty  years'  sen 
iority.  Altogether  Hillerton  placed  a  high 
value  upon  his  confidential  clerk,  and  it  was 
with  a  very  genuine  good-will  that  he  followed 
up  the  last  recorded  observation,  by  saying, 
carelessly  : 

"  I  hope  you  've  kept  out  of  the  thing  your 
self,  Peckham." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  Peckham  answered,  in  a  tone 
of  indifference,  copied  after  Hillerton 's  own. 

Peckham  spoke  the  truth,  as  it  happened, 
but  he  would  probably  have  made  the  same 
answer  whether  it  had  been  true  or  not.  He 
was  of  the  opinion  that  he  was  not  accountable 
to  Hillerton  nor  to  any  one  else  in  the  dispo 
sition  he  might  make  of  his  legitimate  earnings. 
In  fact,  it  was  largely  owing  to  Hillerton's 
inquiry  and  the  hint  of  resentment  it  excited, 
that  Peckham  put  a  hundred  dollars  into  the 
Yankee  Doodle  Mining  and  Milling  Co.  that 
very  day.  To  be  sure,  he  acted  on  a  "  straight 
tip,"  but  straight  tips  were  as  thick  as  huckle 
berries  in  Springtown,  and  this  was  the  first 
time  he  had  availed  himself  of  one. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine  why  Peckham 
should  not  have  thoroughly  liked  Hillerton  ; 


244  Ipeak  anfc  prairie 


difficult,  that  is,  to  any  one  not  aware  of  the 
unusual  criterion  by  which  he  measured  his 
fellow  men.  He  was  himself  conscious  that 
he  had  ceased  to  "take  any  stock"  in  his 
employer,  since  the  day  on  which  he  had 
discovered  that  that  excellent  man  of  business 
did  not  know  the  Ninth  Symphony  from  Hail 
Columbia. 

Against  Fate,  on  the  other  hand,  Peckham 
had  several  grudges.  He  was  inconveniently 
poor,  he  was  ill,  and  he  was  in  exile.  With  so 
many  hard  feelings  to  cherish  against  his  two 
immediate  superiors — namely,  Hillerton  and 
Fate — it  is  no  wonder  that  Peckham  had  the 
reputation  of  being  of  a  morose  disposition. 

He  was  perhaps  the  most  solitary  man  in 
Springtown.  Not  only  did  he  live  in  lodgings, 
and  pick  up  his  meals  at  cheap  restaurants  ; 
he  had  wilfully  denied  himself  the  compensa 
tions  which  club  life  offers.  Living,  too,  in  a 
singularly  hospitable  community,  he  never  put 
himself  in  the  way  of  receiving  invitations, 
and  he  consequently  was  allowed  to  do  without 
them.  He  did  not  keep  a  horse  ;  he  thought 
a  lodging-house  no  place  for  dogs,  and  he 
entertained  serious  thoughts  of  shooting  his 
landlady's  cat.  He  had  always  refrained  from 
burdening  himself  with  correspondents,  and 


Bn  Bmateur  ©amble  245 

would  have  thought  it  a  nuisance  to  write  to 
his  own  brother,  if  so  be  he  had  had  such  a 
relative  to  bless  himself  with. 

Lewis  Peckham  did  not  complain  of  his  lot 
in  detail,  and  he  never  made  the  least  effort  to 
better  it.     There  was  only  one  thing  he  really 
wanted,  and  that  thing  he  could  not  have.    He 
wanted  to  be   "something   big"   in   the   way 
of  a  musician.     Not  merely  to  be   master  of 
this  or  that  instrument ;  certainly  not  to  teach 
reluctant  young  people  their  scales  and  arpeg 
gios.     What  he  had  intended  to  become  was 
a  great  composer— a  composer  of  symphonies 
and  operas— the   First  Great  American   Com 
poser,    spelled,    be   it    observed,    with   capital 
letters.      He  was  not  destined    to  the  disillu 
sionment  of  direct  failure,  which  in  all  human 
probability  would  have  been  his.     Fate  spared 
him  that  by  visiting  him  in  the  beginning  of 
his  career  with  an  attack  of  pneumonia  which 
sent   him  fleeing  for  his  life  to   the  sunshine 
and  high  air  of  the  Rocky  Mountain  region. 
Peckham  was  always  rather  ashamed  of  having 
fled  for  his  life,  which,  as  he  repeatedly  assured 
himself,  was  by  no  means  worth  the  purchase. 
Yet  with  him  as  with  most  men,  even  when 
thwarted  in  what  they  believe  to  be  a  great 
ambition,  the  instinct  of  life  is  as  imperative 


246  peak  an£>  prairie 


as  that  of  hunger.  And  Lewis  Peckham  found 
himself  wooing  health  at  the  cost  of  music, 
and  earning  his  living  as  prosaically  as  any 
mere  bread-winner  of  them  all. 

The  ' '  straight  tip  ' '  on  the  Yankee  Doodle 
proved  to  be  an  exception  among  its  kind. 
The  Y.  D.  which  he  had  bought  at  ten  cents, 
ran  up  in  a  week  to  twenty-five  cents.  Peck- 
ham  sold  out  just  before  it  dropped  back,  and 
then  he  put  his  profits  into  the  ' '  Libby  Carew. ' ' 

It  happened  that  about  that  time  he  read  in 
the  local  paper  that  the  great  Leitmann  Orches 
tra  would  close  its  season  with  a  concert  in 
Chicago  on  May  i6th.  This  concert  Peckham 
was  determined  to  hear,  cost  what  it  would. 
Hence  the  prudence  which  led  him  to  reserve 
his  original  hundred  dollars  ;  a  prudence  which 
would  otherwise  have  deprived  the  speculation 
of  half  its  savor.  The  Libby  Carew  was  as  yet 
a  mere  "  hole  in  the  ground,"  but  if  he  did  not 
have  the  excitement  of  making  money,  it  might 
prove  equally  stirring  to  lose  it.  Besides  that, 
Hillerton's  tone  was  getting  more  and  more 
lofty  on  the  subject  of  stock  gambling,  and  the 
idea  of  acting  contrary  to  such  unquestioned 
sagacity  had  more  relish  than  most  ideas  pos 
sessed. 

Meanwhile    the    excitement    grew.      Lame 


Bn  Bmateur  Gamble  247 

Gulch  was  "panning  out"  with  startling  re 
sults.  One  after  another  the  Springtown  men 
went  up  to  investigate  matters  for  themselves, 
and  the  most  sceptical  came  back  a  convert. 
The  railroad  folks  began  to  talk  of  building  a 
branch  "in."  Eastern  capitalists  pricked  up 
their  ears  and  sent  out  experts. 

One  morning  the  last    of   February,  half-a- 
dozen    men,  among  them  a  couple    who    had 
just   come  down   from   the   camp,  stood  about 
Hillerton's  office  or  sat  on  the  railing  of  the 
sanctum,  giving  rough  but   graphic   accounts 
of  the  sights  to  be  seen  at  Lame  Gulch.     The 
company  was  not  a    typical   Western    crowd. 
The    men    were    nearly    all  well  dressed  and 
exhibited  evidences  of    good   breeding.      The 
refinement  of  the   "tenderfoot  "was  still  dis 
cernible,  and  excepting    for   the  riding  boots 
which  they  wore  and  the  silk  hats  and  derbys 
which   they  did  not  wear,  and  for  an  air  of 
cheerful  alertness  which  prevailed  among  them, 
one  might    have    taken  them  for  a  group    of 
Eastern  club  men.     The  reason  of  this  was  not 
far  to  seek.     Most  of  them  were,  in  fact,  East 
ern  club  men,  who  had  sought  Springtown  as 
a  health-resort,    and  had  discovered,  to   their 
surprise,  that  it  was  about  the  pleasantest  place 
they  had  yet  "  struck." 


248  jpeafc  an£>  prairie 

Peckham  sat  somewhat  apart  from  the  others 
on  his  high  revolving  stool,  sometimes  listen 
ing,  without  a  sign  of  interest  in  his  face,  some 
times  twirling  his  stool  around  and  sitting  with 
his  back  to  the  company,  apparently  immersed 
in  figures. 

Allery  Jones,  the  Springtown  wag,  had  once 
remarked  that  Peckham' s  back  was  more  ex 
pressive  than  his  face.  On  this  occasion  he 
nudged  Dicky  Simmons,  with  a  view  to  re 
minding  him  of  the  fact  ;  but  Dicky,  a  hand 
some  youth  with  a  sanguine  light  in  his  blue 
eyes,  was  intent  on  what  Harry  de  Luce  was 
saying. 

'  Tell  you  what !  "  cried  de  Luce,  who  had 
only  recently  discovered  that  there  were  other 
interests  in  life  besides  the  three  P's,  polo, 
poker,  and  pigeon-shooting.  ' '  Tell  you  what, 
those  fellows  up  there  are  a  rustling  lot.  Take 
the  Cosmopolitan  Hotel  now  !  They  're  getting 
things  down  to  a  fine  point  in  that  tavern. 
There  was  a  man  put  up  there  night  before  last, 
one  of  those  rich-as-thunder  New  York  capital 
ists.  You  could  see  it  by  the  hang  of  his  coat- 
tails.  He  came  sniffing  round  on  his  own 
hook,  as  those  cautious  cusses  do.  Well, 
Rumsey  gave  him  one  of  his  crack  rooms- 
panes  of  glass  in  the  window,  imitation  ma- 


Bn  Bmateur  ©amble  249 


hogany    chamber-set,  pitcher  of  water  on  the 
washstand,  all  complete.     Do  you  suppose  that 
was  good  enough  for  old  Money-Bags  ?     Not  by 
a  jug-full.    He  owned  the  earth,  he  'd  have  you 
to  know,  and  he  was  n't   going  to  put  up  with 
anything  short  of  the  Murray  Hill !     Nothing 
suited.     There  wasn't  any  paper  on  the  walls, 
there  was  n't    any  carpet    on  the  floor,  there 
wasn't  any  window-shade,  and  I  '11  be  blowed 
if  the   old  chap  didn't   object   to  finding   the 
water  frozen  solid  in   the  pitcher.      He  came 
down   to  the   bar    roaring-mad,   and   said    he 
wouldn't  stand  it  ;  he  'd  rather  camp  out  and 
done  with  it ;  if  they  could  n't  give  him  a  better 
room  than  that,  he  'd  be  out  of  this  quicker  'n 
he  came  in  !     Well,   fellers  !     You   never  saw 
anything   half   so   sweet   as   that   old   halibut 
Rumsey.     If  the  gentleman  would  just  step  in 
to  supper  and  have  a  little  patience,  he  thought 
he  'd  find  everything  to  his  satisfaction.     And 
by  the  living  Jingo,    boys  !  when  old  Money- 
Bags  went  up  to  his  room  in  the  middle  of  the 
evening,  I  'm  blessed  if  there  was  n't  a  paper 
on   the   wall,   an  ingrain  carpet  on  the  floor, 
and  a  red-hot  stove  over  in  the  corner  !     Same 
room,    too  !     Like  to  have  seen    the   old   boy 
when  the   grand    transformation    scene   burst 
upon  his  astonished  optics  !     Guess  he  thought 


250  peak  anfc  prairie 


Lame  Gulch  could  give  New  York  City 
points  !  " 

"Did  the  old  cove  seem  likely  to  put  any 
money  in  ?  "  asked  a  man  with  high  cheek 
bones,  who  had  the  worried  look  of  a  person 
who  has  given  a  mortgage  on  his  peace  of 
mind. 

'  Yes,  he  bought  up  some  claims  dirt  cheap, 
and  they  say  he  's  going  to  form  a  company." 

"That's  the  talk!"  cried  the  sanguine 
Dicky. 

' '  Speaking  of  picking  up  claims  dirt  cheap, ' ' 
began  a  new  orator,  an  ex-ranchman,  who  was 
soon  to  make  the  discovery  that  there  was  as 
much  money  to  be  lost  in  mines  as  in  cattle,  if 
a  fellow  only  had  the  knack  ;  "I  saw  a  tidy 
little  deal  when  I  was  up  at  the  camp  last 
week.  We  were  sitting  round  in  the  bar-room 
of  the  Cosmopolitan,  trying  to  keep  warm.  I 
guess  it  was  the  only  place  in  I^ame  Gulch  that 
night  where  the  thermometer  was  above  zero. 
There  was  a  lot  of  drinking  going  on,  and  the 
men  that  were  playing  were  playing  high.  I 
was  n't  in  it  myself.  I  was  pleasantly  occupied 
with  feeling  warm  after  having  fooled  round 
the  lyibby  Carew  all  day.  I  got  interested  in  a 
man  standing  outside,  who  kept  looking  in  at 
the  window  and  going  off  again.  The  light 


Bn  Bmateur  ©amble  251 

struck  the  face  in  a  queer  sort  of  way,  and  I 
guess  there  was  something  wrong  about  the 
window-pane.  They  don't  do  much  business 
in  the  way  of  plate-glass  at  Lame  Gulch.  Any 
how,  I  could  n't  seem  to  get  a  fair  sight  of  any 
thing  but  the  man's  eyes,  and  they  looked  like 
the  eyes  of  a  hungry  wolf." 

( '  Ever  meet  a  hungry  wolf,  Phil  ?  ' ' 
"  Scores  of  'em.     You  're  one  yourself,  Jim, 
when  you  look   at   the    stock-boards.      Well  ! 
The  fellow  came  and  went  like  an  angel  visi 
tant,  and  after  awhile   I  got  tired  of  watching 
for  him,  and  found  myself  admiring  the  vocabu 
lary  of  the   boys  as  they  got  excited.     Gad  ! 
It's  a  liberal  education  to  listen    to   that  sort 
of  a  crowd.     The  worst  you  can  do  yourself 
sounds  like  a  Sunday-school  address  by  com 
parison.     Suddenly    the    door    opened  and  in 
walked  the  man  with  the  eyes.     He  had  n'  t  any 
overcoat  on  and  his  feet  and  legs  were  tied  up 
in  gunny   sacks.     His   teeth   were  chattering 
and  his   face   looked   like   a  blue  print  !     He 
shuffled    up   to    Rumsey,   who   was    sipping  a 
cocktail  behind  the  bar,  and  says  he  : 
"  '  Evenin',  pard  ;  I  want  a  drink.' 
'"All  right,  stranger.  Just  show  us  the  color 
of  your  money.' 

"  '  Ain't  got  any  money,'  says  he,  '  but  I  've 


252  ipeafc  anfc  prairie 


got  a  claim  over  'long  side  of  the  Yankee 
Doodle,  and  I  'm  ready  to  swap  a  half  interest 
in  it  for  all  the  liquor  I  can  drink  between  now 
and  morning. '  There  was  a  kind  of  a  desper 
ate  look  about  the  man  that  meant  business. 
Rumsey  stepped  out  among  the  boys  and  got  a 
pointer  or  two  on  that  claim,  and  they  made 
the  deal." 

There  was  a  pause  in  the  narrative,  to  allow 
the  listeners  to  take  in  the  situation,  and  then 
the  speaker  went  on  :  "It  was  a  sight  to  see 
that  chap  pour  the  stuff  down  his  throat.  He 
was  drinking,  off  and  on,  pretty  much  all  night. 
Did  n't  come  to  till  late  the  next  afternoon. 
Rumsey  was  so  pleased  with  the  deal  next 
morning,  that  he  let  the  fellow  lie  behind  the 
stove  all  day  and  sleep  it  off.  Not  sure  but 
that  he  gave  him  a  drink  of  water  when  he 
woke  up,  and  water  's  high  at  I^ame  Gulch." 

"  Kind  of  a  shame,  I  call  it,  to  let  him  do  it. 
Wasn't  there  anybody  to  stand  treat?"  It 
was  Dicky,  the  lad  of  the  sanguine  countenance 
that  vSpoke. 

' '  Wonder  what  the  claim  was  worth  ?  ' '  said 
the  man  with  a  mortgage  on  him. 

' '  Wonder  how  he  felt  next  morning  ?  ' ' 
queried  another. 

"  Felt  like  an  infernal   donkey  !  "     Hillerton 


Bn  Bmateut  ©amble  253 

declared,    flinging    away    a    cigar-stump    and 
taking  his  legs  down  from  the  desk. 

Then  Peckham  turned  himself  round  to  face 
the  crowd,  and  said,  in  a  tone  of  quiet  convic 
tion  : 

"  The  man  was  all  right.  If  you  only  want 
anything  bad  enough,  no  price  is  too  high  to 
pay  for  it." 

This  was  a  sentiment  which  every  one  was 
bound  to  respect— every  one,  at  least,  excepting 
Hillerton. 

"Sounds  very  well,  Peckham,"  he  said, 
"  but  it  won't  hold  water." 

The  most  surprising  thing  about  Peckham' s 
little  speculations  was  that  they  all  succeeded. 
It  made  the  other  men  rather  mad  because  he 
did  not  care  more. 

"But  that's  always  the  way,"  Freddy 
Dillingham  remarked,  with  an  air  of  pro 
found  philosophy.  "  It 's  the  fellers  that  don't 
care  a  darn  that  have  all  the  luck." 

When  Peckham  sold  out  of  the  Libby  Carew, 
he  doubled  his  money,  and  the  moment  he 
touched  the  "  Trailing  Arbutus,"  up  she  went. 
By  the  first  of  May  he  found  himself  the  pos 
sessor  of  nearly  three  thousand  dollars'  worth 
of  "stuff"  distributed  among  several  vent 
ures.  Of  course,  he  was  credited  with  five 


254  ipeafc  anfc  pratrte 

times  as  much,  and  the  other  men  began  to 
think  that  if  he  did  not  set  up  a  dogcart  pretty 
soon,  or  at  least  a  yellow  buckboard,  they 
should  have  their  opinion  of  him.  If  the 
truth  must  be  known,  Peckham  would  not 
have  given  a  nickle  for  a  dozen  dogcarts.  It 
was  all  very  well  to  make  a  little  money  ;  it 
was  the  first  time  he  had  discovered  a  taste  for 
anything  in  the  nature  of  a  game,  and  the 
higher  the  stakes  came  to  be,  the  more  worth 
while  it  seemed.  Nevertheless,  his  mind,  in 
those  days  of  early  May,  when  he  was  steadily 
rising  in  the  esteem  of  his  associates,  was 
very  little  occupied  with  the  calculation  of 
his  profits. 

He  had  long  since  arranged  with  Hillerton 
to  take  part  of  his  vacation  the  middle  of  May, 
and  the  anticipation  of  that  concert  was  more 
inspiring  to  him  than  all  the  gold  mines  in 
Colorado.  As  the  time  drew  near,  a  consum 
ing  thirst  took  possession  of  him,  and  not  a 
gambler  of  them  all  was  the  prey  to  a  more 
feverish  impatience  than  he.  He  tormented 
himself  with  thoughts  of  every  possible  dis 
aster  which  might  come  to  thwart  him  at  the 
last  minute.  Visions  of  a  railroad  accident 
which  should  result  in  the  wholesale  destruc 
tion  of  the  entire  orchestra,  haunted  his  mind. 


Bn  Bmateur  (Bamblc  255 

Another  great  fire  might  wipe  Chicago  out  of 
existence.  The  one  thing  which  his  imagina 
tion  failed  to  conceive,  was  the  possibility  that 
he,  Lewis  Peckham,  might  be  deterred  from 
hearing  the  concert  when  once  it  should  take 
place.  In  the  interim  he  made  repeated  calcu 
lations  of  the  number  of  hours  that  must  be 
lived  through  before  May  i6th.  Hillerton 
came  across  a  half  sheet  of  paper  covered  with 
such  calculations,  and  was  somewhat  puzzled 
by  the  prominence  of  the  figure  24.  An 
odd  price  to  pay  for  a  mining  stock.  He  was 
afraid  it  was  the  "  Adeline  Maria,"  a  no 
torious  swindle.  Well,  Peckham  might  as 
well  get  his  lesson  at  the  hands  of  the  faithless 
Adeline  Maria  as  by  any  other  means.  He 
was  bound  to  come  to  grief  sooner  or  later,  but 
that  was  no  business  of  Hillerton' s. 

On  May  yth,  Hillerton  came  down  with 
pleurisy  and  Peckham  suddenly  found  himself 
at  the  head  of  affairs.  Hillerton  had  no  part 
ner  ;  no  one  but  Peckham  could  take  his 
place.  And  in  Peckham' s  moral  constitution 
was  a  substratum  of  unshakable  fidelity  upon 
which  the  astute  Hillerton  had  built.  Curs 
ing  his  own  unimpeachable  sense  of  duty,  Peck- 
ham  could  see  but  one  straw  of  hope  to  clutch 
at.  It  might  be  a  light  case. 


256  peafc  anfc  jpratrie 

He  went  directly  to  the  doctor's  office,  and 
with  a  feverish  anxiety  apparent  in  his  voice 
and  bearing,  he  asked  how  long  Hillerton  was 
likely  to  be  laid  up. 

"Curious,"  thought  the  doctor  during  that 
carefully  calculated  pause  which  your  experi 
enced  practitioner  so  well  knows  the  value  of. 
"  Curious  how  fond  folks  get  of  James  Hil 
lerton.  The  fellow  looks  as  though  his  own 
brother  were  at  death's  door." 

"  I  think  there  is  nothing  serious  to  appre 
hend,"  he  answered  soothingly.  "Hillerton 
has  a  good  constitution.  I  've  no  doubt  he 
will  be  about  again  by  the  end  of  the  month. ' ' 

Peckham  went  white  to  the  lips. 

"  I  suppose  that's  the  best  you  can  prom 
ise,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,  but  I  can  promise  that  safely." 

The  confidential  clerk  went  back  to  the  office 
filled  with  a  profound  loathing  of  life. 

"  If  liquor  wasn't  so  nasty,  I'd  take  to 
drink,"  he  said  to  himself  as  he  sat  down  at 
Hillerton 's  desk  and  set  to  work. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  and  Peckham 
was  at  something  of  a  loss  what  to  do  with  it. 
He  hated  the  sight  of  his  room.  The  odor  of 
the  straw  matting  and  the  pattern  of  the  wall 
paper  were  inextricably  associated  with  those 


an  amateur  ©amble  257 

anticipations  which  he  had  been  rudely  cheated 
out  of.  To  escape  such  associations  he  took 
an  electric  car  to  the  Bluffs,  those  rock-bound 
islands  in  the  prairie  sea  which  lie  a  couple  of 
miles  to  the  east  of  the  town.  There  was  only 
one  other  passenger  besides  himself,  a  man  with 
a  gun,  who  .softly  whistled  a  popular  air,  very 
much  out  of  tune.  Peckham  came  perilously 
near  kicking  the  offender,  but,  happily,  the 
fellow  got  off  just  in  time,  and  went  strolling 
across  the  open  with  the  gun  over  his  shoulder. 
Once  he  stooped  to  pick  a  flower  which  he  stuck 
in  his  buttonhole.  Queer,  thought  Peckham, 
that  a  man  should  go  picking  flowers  and 
whistling  out  of  tune  !  There  were  the  moun 
tains,  too.  Some  people  made  a  great  deal  of 
them — great,  stupid  masses  of  dumb  earth  ! 
He  remembered  he  had  thought  them  fine  him 
self  the  other  day  when  there  were  shadows 
on  them.  But  to-day  !  How  the  sun  glared 
on  their  ugly  reddish  sides  !  And  what  was  it 
that  had  gone  wrong  anyhow  ?  He  could  not 
seem  to  remember,  and  on  the  whole  he  did  not 
wish  to. 

Now  Lewis  Peckham  was  neither  losing  his 
mind,  nor  had  he  been  drowning  his  sorrows 
in  the  conventional  dram.  The  simple  fact  of 

the  matter  was  that  he  had  not  slept  fifteen 
17 


258  jpeafc  anD  prairie 


minutes  consecutively  all  night  long,  and  his 
brain  was  not  likely  to  clear  up  until  he  had 
given  it  a  chance  to  recuperate.  By  the  time 
he  had  left  the  car  and  climbed  the  castellated 
side  of  Pine  Bluff  he  was  still  miserably 
unhappy,  but  he  had  altogether  lost  track  of 
the  cause  of  his  unhappiness.  He  strayed 
aimlessly  along  the  grassy  top  of  the  Bluff, 
away  from  the  road,  and  down  a  slight  incline, 
into  a  sheltered  hollow.  At  the  foot  of  a 
strange,  salmon-colored  column  of  rock  was  a 
little  group  of  budding  scrub-oaks.  Peckham 
crawled  in  among  them,  and  in  about  thirty 
seconds  he  was  fast  asleep.  There  he  lay  for 
hours.  A  blue  jay,  chattering  in  a  pine-tree 
near  at  hand,  made  no  impression  upon  his 
sleep-deadened  ear  ;  a  pair  of  ground  squirrels 
scuttled  in  arid  out  among  the  scrub-oaks,  peer 
ing  shyly  at  the  motionless  intruder,  and 
squeaked  faintly  to  one  another,  with  vivacious 
action  of  nose  and  tail.  They  were,  perhaps, 
discussing  the  availability  of  a  certain  inviting 
coat-pocket  for  purposes  of  domestic  architec 
ture.  An  occasional  rumble  of  wheels  on  the 
road,  a  dozen  rods  away,  startled  the  birds  and 
squirrels,  but  Peckham  slept  tranquilly  on, 
and  dreamed  that  the  Leitmann  Orchestra  was 
playing  in  the  Springtown  Opera  House,  and 


&n  amateur  Gamble  259 


that  he,  by  reason  of  his  being  an  early  Chris 
tian  martyr,  was  forced  to  roast  at  the  stake 
just  out  of  hearing  of  the  music. 

It  was  well  on  in  the  afternoon  when  he  came 
to  himself,  to  find  his  boots  scorched  almost  to 
a  crisp  in  the  sun  which  had  been  pouring 
upon  them.  He  pulled  himself  out  from 
among  the  scrub-oaks,  and  got  his  feet  out  of 
the  sun.  Then  he  looked  at  his  watch  ;  and 
after  that  he  looked  at  the  view. 

The  view  was  well  worth  looking  at  in  the 
mellow  afternoon  light.  Peckham  gazed  across 
the  shimmering  gold  of  the  plain,  to  the  moun 
tains,  which  stood  hushed  into  a  palpitating 
blue ;  the  Peak  alone,  white  and  ethereal, 
floating  above  the  foot  hills  in  the  sun.  Peck- 
ham  was  impressed  in  spite  of  himself.  It 
made  him  think  of  a  weird,  mystical  strain  of 
music  that  had  sometimes  haunted  his  brain 
and  yet  which  he  had  never  been  able  to  seize 
and  capture.  As  he  gazed  on  the  soaring, 
mystical  Peak,  he  remembered  his  dream,  and 
slowly,  but  very  surely,  he  perceived  that  a 
purpose  was  forming  in  his  mind,  almost  with 
out  the  connivance  of  his  will.  He  got  upon 
his  feet  and  laughed  aloud.  A  sudden  youth 
ful  intoxication  of  delight  welled  up  within 
him  and  rang  forth  in  that  laugh.  Life,  for 


260  ipeafe  anfc  iprairtc 


the  first  time  in  three  years,  seemed  to  him 
like  a  glorious  thing  ;  an  irresistible,  a  soul- 
stirring  purpose  had  taken  possession  of  him, 
and  he  knew  that  no  obstacle  could  stand 
against  it. 

He  started  for  the  town  almost  on  a  run, 
scorning  the  prosaic  cars  which  harbored  pas 
sengers  who  whistled  out  of  tune.  He  struck 
directly  across  the  intercepting  plain,  and 
though  he  soon  had  to  slacken  his  pace,  his 
winged  thoughts  went  on  before  him,  and  he 
took  no  note  of  the  distance. 

That  evening  Peckham  sent  off  a  telegram 
of  one  hundred  and  eleven  words  to  Heinrich 
Leitmann,  of  the  Leitmann  Orchestra,  and 
Monday  afternoon  the  following  answer  came  : 

"Full  lyeitmann  Orchestra  can  engage  for  Spring- 
town,  evening  of  igth.  Terms,  five  thousand  dol 
lars,  expenses  included.  Answer  before  I3th.  Buf 
falo,  N.  Y. 

(Signed)  "  H. 


And  now  Lewis  Peckham  came  out  a  full- 
fledged  speculator.  He  sold  out  of  four  mines 
and  bought  into  six  ;  he  changed  his  ventures 
three  times  in  twenty-four  hours,  each  time  on 
a  slight  rise.  He  haunted  the  stockbroker's 
offices,  watching  out  for  '  '  pointers  "  ;  he 


Bn  Bmateur  (Bamble  261 


button-holed  every  third  man  on  the  street ; 
he  drank  in  every  hint  that  was  dropped 
in  his  hearing.  On  Tuesday  afternoon  he 
''cleaned  up"  his  capital  and  found  himself 
in  possession  of  three  thousand  five  hundred 
dollars. 

"  Peckham  's  going  it  hard,"  men  said  at 
the  club.  "  He  must  be  awfully  bitten." 

All  day  Wednesday  he  could  not  muster 
courage  to  put  his  money  into  anything, 
though  stocks  were  booming  on  every  hand. 
And  yet  on  Wednesday,  as  on  Monday  and  on 
Tuesday,  he  did  his  office  work  arid  superin 
tended  that  of  his  subordinates  methodically 
and  exactly.  The  substratum  of  character 
which  the  long-headed  Hillerton  had  built 
upon,  held  firm. 

On  Wednesday  evening  Peckham  stood, 
wild-eyed  and  haggard,  in  the  light  of  Esta- 
brook's  drug-store  and  scanned  the  faces  of  the 
foot-passengers.  Early  in  the  evening  Elliot 
Chittenden  came  along  with  a  grip-sack  in  his 
hand,  just  down  from  Lame  Gulch.  Peck- 
ham  fell  upon  him  like  a  foot-pad,  whispering 
hoarsely  : 

"  For  God's  sake  give  me  a  pointer." 

"Jove!"  said  Chittenden,  afterward,  "I 
thought  it  was  a  hold-up,  sure  as  trumps." 


262  fteafc  anfc  iprairte 


At  the  moment,  however,  he  maintained  his 
composure  and  only  said  : 

' '  The  smelter  returns  from  the  Boa  Con 
strictor  are  down  to-day.  Two  hundred  and 
seventeen  dollars  to  the-  ton.  I  've  got  all  the 
stuff  I  can  carry,  so  I  don't  mind  letting  you 
in.  The  papers  will  have  it  to-morrow,  though 
they  're  doing  their  best  to  keep  it  back." 

Into  the  Boa  Constrictor  Peckham  plunged 
the  next  morning,  for  all  he  was  worth.  His 
money  brought  him  ten  thousand  shares.  The 
morning  papers  did  not  have  it,  and  all  that 
day  the  Boa  Constrictor  lay  as  torpid  as  any 
other  snake  in  cold  weather.  Peckham' s  face 
had  taken  on  the  tense,  wild  look  of  the  gam 
bler.  He  left  the  office  half  a  dozen  times 
during  the  day  to  look  at  the  stock-boards. 
He  had  a  hundred  minds  about  taking  his 
money  out  and  putting  it  into  something  else. 
But  nothing  else  promised  anything  definite, 
and  he  held  on. 

The  evening  papers  gave  the  smelter  re 
turns,  precisely  as  Chittenden  had  stated  them. 
Now  would  the  public  ' '  catch  on ' '  quick 
enough,  or  would  they  take  ten  days  to  do 
what  they  might  as  well  come  to  on  the 
spot? 

At  nine  o'clock  the  next  morning,  Peckham 


Bn  Bmateur  Gamble  263 

was  on  the  street  lying  in  wait  for  an  early 
broker.  It  was  not  until  half-past  nine  that 
they  began  to  arrive. 

"Any  bids  for  Boa  Constrictor?"  Peck- 
ham  inquired  of  Macdugal,  the  first-comer. 

' '  They  were  bidding  forty  cents  at  the  club 
last  night,  with  no  takers." 

"  Let  me  know  if  you  get  fifty  cents  bid." 

' '  How  much  do  you  offer  ?  ' ' 

' '  Ten  thousand  shares. ' ' 

"Oh!  see  here,  Peckham  !  I  wouldn't  sell 
out  at  such  a  price.  The  thing  's  sure  to  go  to 
a  dollar  inside  of  thirty  days." 

"  I  don't  care  a  hang  where  it  goes  in  thirty 
days.  I  want  the  money  to-day." 

' '  Whew  !  Do  you  know  anything  better  to 
put  it  into  ?  ' ' 

' '  I  know  something  a  million  times  better  !  ' ' 
cried  Peckham,  in  a  voice  sharp  with  excite 
ment. 

"The  fellow's  clean  daft,"  Macdugal  re 
marked  to  his  partner,  a  few  minutes  later. 

"  I  should  say  so  !  "  was  the  reply.  "  Queer, 
too,  how  suddenly  it  takes  'em.  A  week  ago 
I  should  have  said  that  was  the  coolest  head 
of  the  lot.  He  didn't  seem  to  care  a  chuck 
for  the  whole  business.  Wonder  if  he  's  gone 
off  his  base  since  Hillerton  was  laid  up.  Hope 


264  Ipeafc  anD  prairie 

he  isn't  in  for  a  swindle.     He  'd  be  just  game 
for  a  sharper  to-day." 

At  noon  Peckham  sold  his  ten  thousand 
shares  of  B.  C.  for  five  thousand  dollars.  He 
could  have  got  six  thousand  the  next  morning, 
but  then,  as  he  reflected,  what  good  would  it 
have  done  him  ?  His  first  act  after  depositing 
the  check  received  for  his  stock,  was  to  send 
the  following  telegram  : 

"  L/eitmann  Orchestra  engaged  forSpringtown,  May 
igth.  Five  thousand  dollars  deposited  in  First  Na 
tional  Bank.  Particulars  by  letter. 

(Signed)  "  LEWIS  PECKHAM." 

It  is  not  a  usual  thing  for  an  impecunious 
young  man  to  invest  five  thousand  dollars  in 
a  single  symphony  concert,  but  there  was  one 
feature  of  the  affair  which  was  more  unusual 
still :  namely,  the  fact  that  the  consummation 
of  that  same  young  man's  hopes  was  complete. 
For  two  beatific  hours  on  the  evening  of  the 
memorable  igth  of  May,  L,ewis  Peckham' s  cup 
was  full.  He  sat  among  the  people  in  the  bal 
cony,  quiet  and  intent,  taking  no  part  in  the 
applause,  looking  neither  to  the  right  nor  to 
the  left.  But  if  he  gave  no  outward  sign,  per 
haps  it  was  because  his  spirit  was  so  far  up 
lifted  as  to  be  out  of  touch  with  his  body. 


Bn  Bmateur  Gamble  265 


The  money  which  he  had  expended  in  the 
gratification  of  what  the  uninitiated  would  call 
a  whim,  seemed  to  him  the  paltriest  detail, 
quite  unworthy  of  consideration.  When  he 
thought  of  it  at  all  it  was  to  recall  the  story  of 
the  gaunt  customer  who  paid  so  handsomely 
for  his  whisky,  and  to  note  the  confirmation 
of  his  theory,  that  "  if  you  only  want  anything 
bad  enough  no  price  is  too  high  to  pay  for  it." 

And  in  still  another  particular  Lewis  Peck- 
ham's  experience  was  unique.  He  never  gam 
bled  again.  He  had  a  feeling  that  he  had  got 
all  he  was  entitled  to  from  the  fickle  goddess. 
When  pressed  to  try  his  luck  once  more  he 
would  only  say,  with  his  old,  indifferent  shrug  : 
"No,  thanks.  I've  had  my  fling  and  now 
I  've  got  through. '\ 


X. 


A   ROCKY   MOUNTAIN   SHIPWRECK. 

"  DIXBY'S  Art  Emporium"  was  a  temple 
*— '  of  such  modest  exterior  that  visitors 
were  conscious  of  no  special  disappointment 
upon  finding  that  there  was,  if  possible,  less 
of  "art"  than  of  "emporium"  within.  A 
couple  of  show-cases  filled  with  agate  and  tiger- 
eye  articles,  questionable  looking  "gems," 
and  the  like  ;  a  table  in  the  centre  of  the  shop 
piled  high  with  Colorado  views  of  every  de 
scription  ;  here  and  there  on  the  walls  a  poor 
water-color  or  a  worse  oil-painting  ;  a  desul 
tory  Navajo  rug  on  a  chair :  these  humble 
objects  constituted  the  nearest  approach  to 
"  art "  that  the  establishment  could  boast. 
The  distinctive  feature  of  the  little  shop  was 
the  show-case  at  the  rear,  filled  with  books  of 
pressed  wildflowers  ;  these,  at  least,  were  the 
chief  source  of  income  in  the  business,  and 
266 


51  tftocfcs  Mountain  Sbipvvrecfc          267 

therefore  Marietta  spent  every  odd  half-hour 
in  the  manufacture  of  them.  A  visitor,  when 
he  entered,  was  apt  to  suppose  that  the  shop 
was  empty  ;  for  the  black,  curly  head  bent 
over  the  work  at  the  window  behind  the  back 
counter  was  not  immediately  discernible.  It 
was  a  fascinating  head,  as  the  most  unimpres 
sionable  visitor  could  not  fail  to  observe  when 
the  tall  figure  rose  from  behind  the  counter,— 
fascinating  by  reason  of  the  beautiful  hair, 
escaping  in  soft  tendrils  from  the  confining 
knot  ;  fascinating  still  more  by  reason  of  the 
perfect  grace  of  poise.  The  face  was  some 
what  sallow  and  very  thin  ;  care  and  privation 
had  left  their  marks  upon  it.  The  mouth  was 
finely  modelled,  shrewd  and  humorous  ;  but 
it  was  the  eyes,  dark,  and  darkly  fringed  as 
those  of  a  wood-nymph,  that  dominated  the 
face  ;  one  had  a  feeling  that  here  was  where 
the  soul  looked  out.  To  hear  Marietta  speak, 
however,  was  something  of  a  disenchantment  ; 
her  tone  was  so  very  matter-of-fact,  her  words 
so  startlingly  to  the  point.  If  the  soul  looked 
out  at  the  eyes,  the  lips  at  least  had  little  to 
say  of  it. 

The  visitor,  if  a  stranger,  had  an  excellent 
opportunity  of  making  his  observations  on 
these  points,  for  Marietta  usually  remained 


268  fteafc  anfc  prairie 


standing,  in  a  skeptical  attitude,  behind  the  dis 
tant  counter  until  he  had  shown  signs  of  "busi 
ness  ' '  intentions.  She  was  very  ready  to  stand 
up  and  rest  her  back,  but  she  had  no  idea  of 
coming  forward  to  indulge  an  aimless  curiosity 
as  to  the  origin  and  price  of  her  art  treasures. 
An  old  customer,  on  the  other  hand,  was 
treated  with  an  easy  good-fellowship  so  marked 
that  only  those  who  liked  "  that  sort  of  thing  " 
ever  became  old  customers. 

"  Well,  how  's  everything  ?  "  was  the  usual 
form  of  greeting,  as  the  tall  willowy  figure 
passed  round  behind  the  counters  and  came 
opposite  the  new-comer. 

' '  Did  your  folks  like  the  frame  ?  "  would 
come  next,  if  the  customer  chanced  to  have 
had  a  frame  sent  home  recently.  Marietta  was 
agent  for  a  Denver  art  firm,  which  framed 
pictures  at  a  ' '  reasonable  figure  "  ;  or  rather, 
Jim  was  the  agent,  and  Jim  being  Marietta's 
husband,  and  too  sick  a  man  of  late  to  con 
duct  his  business,  did  not  have  to  be  reckoned 
with. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  she  was  generally 
known  as  "Mrs.  Jim,"  many  people  forgot 
that  Marietta  had  a  husband,  for  he  was  never 
visible  now-a-days.  But  Marietta  never  for 
got,  never  for  one  single  instant,  the  wasted 


B  TRocfcs  /Iftountatn  Sbtpwrech          269 


figure  in  the  easy  chair  at  the  window  above 
the  shop,  the  pale  sunken  face  with  the  shin 
ing  eyes,  turned  always  toward  the  stairway 
the  instant  her  foot  touched  the  lower  step. 
The  look  of  radiant  welcome  that  greeted  her 
as  often  as  her  head  appeared  above  the  open 
ing  on  a  level  with  the  uneven  deal  floor,  that 
look  was  always  worth  coming  up  for. 

She  did  not  bring  her  work  and  sit  upstairs 
with  Jim,  because  there  was  but  one  small  win 
dow  in  the  dingy,  slant-roofed  loft,  that  served 
as  bed-chamber,  kitchen,  and  parlor,  and  she 
knew  he  liked  to  sit  at  the  window7  and  watch 
the  panorama  of  the  street  below.  The  broad, 
sunny  Springtown  thoroughfare,  with  its  low, 
irregular  wooden  structures,  likely,  at  any 
moment,  to  give  place  to  ambitious  business 
"  blocks"  ;  with  its  general  air  of  incomplete 
ness  and  transitoriness  brought  into  strong 
relief  against  the  near  background  of  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  was  alive  with  human  inter 
est.  Yet,  singularly  enough,  it  was  not  the 
cowboy,  mounted  on  his  half-broken  bronco 
that  interested  Jim  ;  not  the  ranch  wagon,  piled 
high  with  farm  produce,  women,  and  children  ; 
not  even  the  Lame  Gulch  "  stage,"— a  four- 
seated  wagon,  so  crowded  with  rough-looking 
men  that  their  legs  dangled  outside  like  fringe 


peak  and  prairie 


on  a  cowboy's  "snaps," — none  of  these  sights 
made  much  impression  on  the  sick  man  at  his 
upper  window.  The  work-a-day  side  of  life 
was  far  too  familiar  to  Jim  to  impress  him  as 
being  picturesque  or  dramatic.  What  he  did 
care  for,  what  roused  and  satisfied  his  imagina 
tion,  was  what  was  known  in  his  vocabulary 
as  "  style."  It  was  to  the  "gilded  youth" 
of  Springtown  that  he  looked  for  his  enter 
tainment.  He  liked  the  yellow  fore-and-aft 
buck-boards,  he  enjoyed  the  shining  buggies, 
especially  when  their  wheels  were  painted  red  ; 
dog-carts  and  victorias  ranked  high  in  his 
esteem.  He  knew,  to  be  sure,  very  little  about 
horses  ;  their  most  salient  ' '  points  ' '  escaped 
him  :  he  gave  indiscriminate  approval  to  every 
well-groomed  animal  attached  to  a  "  stylish  ' ' 
vehicle,  and  the  more  the  merrier  !  It  is  safe 
to  declare  that  he  was  a  distinctly  happier  man 
from  that  day  forward  on  which  Mr.  Richard 
Dayton  first  dazzled  the  eyes  of  Springtown 
with  his  four-in-hand. 

This  happened  early  in  February  and  the 
day  chanced  to  be  a  warm  one,  so  that  Jim's 
window  was  open.  He  was  sitting  there,  gaz 
ing  abstractedly  at  the  Peak  which  rose,  a  great 
snowy  dome,  above  Tang  Icing's  shop  across 
the  way.  Jim  seldom  spoke  of  the  mountains, 


B  IRocfcg  Mountain  Sbipvvrecfc          271 


nor  was  he  aware  of  paying  any  special  atten 
tion  to  them.  "  I  ain't  much  on  Nature,"  he 
had  always  maintained  ;  and  since  Marietta 
admitted  the  same  lack  in  herself  there  seemed 
to  be  nothing  in  that  to  regret.  Yet  it  is 
nevertheless  true  that  Jim  had  his  thoughts,  as 
he  sat,  abstractedly  gazing  at  those  shining  . 
heights,  thoughts  of  high  and  solemn  things 
which  his  condition  brought  near  to  him, 
thoughts  which  he  rarely  said  anything  about. 
To-day,  as  he  watched  the  deep  blue  shadows 
brooding  upon  the  Peak,  he  was  wondering  in 
a  child-like  way  what  Heaven  would  be  like. 
Suddenly  the  musical  clink  of  silver  chains 
struck  his  ear,  and  the  look  of  abstraction  van 
ished.  He  had  never  heard  those  bridle  chains 
before.  Somebody  had  got  something  new  ! 
A  moment  more,  and,  with  a  fine  rush  and 
jingle,  and  a  clear  blast  from  the  horn,  the 
four-in-hand  dashed  by. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  Jim  cried  huskily,  as  Marietta's 
foot  trod  the  stair. 

"  I  say,  Jim  !     You  seen  'em  ?  " 

She  came  up  panting,  for  the  stairs  were  very 
steep  and  narrow. 

"Seen  'em?  I  rather  guess!  Was  n't  it 
bully  ?  Do  you  reckon  they  '11  come  back  this 
way?" 


272  fceafc  anD  prairie 


"  Course  they  will  !  Don't  you  s'pose  they 
like  to  show  themselves  off  ?  And  the  horn  ! 
did  you  hear  the  horn,  Jim  ?  I  wonder  if  that 's 
the  way  they  sound  in  Switzerland  !  ' ' 

She  came  up  and  stood  with  her  hand  on 
Jim's  shoulder,  looking  down  into  the  street. 

"  And  just  to  think  of  it,  Jim  !  "  she  said,  a 
moment  later.  "  They  say  he  's  made  lots  of 
money  right  here  in  mines  !  If  we  was  in 
mines  we  might  have  made  some. ' ' 

"More  likely  to  lose  it,"  Jim  answered. 
He  was  not  of  the  stuff  that  speculators  are 
made  of. 

The  shop-bell  rang,  and  Marietta  hurried 
downstairs,  to  spend  ten  minutes  in  selling  a 
ten-cent  Kaster  card  ;  while  Jim  sat  on,  forget 
ting  his  burden  of  weakness  and  pain,  and  all 
his  far-away  dreams,  in  anticipation  of  the 
returning  four-in-hand. 

In  Marietta,  too,  the  jingle  of  the  four-in- 
hand  had  struck  a  new  key-note  ;  her  thoughts 
had  taken  a  new  turn.  If  Mr.  Dayton  had 
made  money  in  mines  why  should  not  she  and 
Jim  do  the  same  ?  They  needed  it  far  more  than 
he  did.  To  him  it  only  meant  driving  four 
horses  instead  of  one  ;  to  them  it  might  mean 
driving  one  horse  once  in  a  while.  It  might 
even  mean  giving  up  the  tiresome,  profitless 


B  IRocfcg  fountain  Sbipwrecfc         273 


shop,  and  going  to  live  in  a  snug  little  house  of 
their  own,  where  there  should  be  a  porch  for  Jim 
in  pleasant  weather  and,  for  cold  days,  a  sitting- 
room  with  two  windows  instead  of  one  where  she 
could  work  at  her  flower-books,  while  they 
planned  what  they  should  do  when  Jim  got 
well.  She  sat  over  her  pressed  flowers,  which 
she  handled  with  much  skill,  while  she  re 
volved  these  thoughts  in  her  mind.  She  was 
busy  with  her  columbines,  a  large  folio  of  which 
lay  on  a  table  near  by.  At  her  left  hand  was  a 
pile  of  square  cards  with  scalloped  edges,  upon 
which  the  columbines  were  to  be  affixed  ;  at  her 
right  was  a  small  glass  window-pane  smeared 
with  what  she  called  "  stickum."  As  she 
deftly  lifted  the  flowers,  one  by  one,  without 
ever  breaking  a  fragile  petal,  she  laid  each  first 
upon  the  "  stickum  "-covered  square  of  glass 
and  then  upon  the  Bristol -board.  She  was 
skilful  in  always  placing  the  flower  precisely 
where  it  was  to  remain  upon  the  page,  so  that 
the  white  surface  was  kept  unstained.  Then 
she  further  secured  each  brittle  stem  with  a  tiny 
strip  of  paper  pasted  across  the  end.  She  lifted 
a  card  and  surveyed  her  work  critically,  think 
ing  the  while,  not  of  the  wonderful  golden  and 
purple  flower,  holding  its  beautiful  head  with 
as  stately  a  grace  as  if  it  were  still  swaying 

18 


274  fl>eafc  anfc  jprairie 

upon  its  stem,  but  of  the  great  "  mining-boom  " 
that  was  upon  the  town,  and  of  the  chances  of 
a  fortune. 

Half-an-hour  had  passed  since  the  shop-bell 
had  last  tinkled,  and  Marietta  was  beginning 
to  think  of  making  Jim  a  flying  call,  when  she 
heard  his  cane  rapturously  banging  the  floor 
above.  This  was  the  signal  for  her  to  look  out 
into  the  street,  which  she  promptly  did,  and, 
behold  !  the  four-in-hand  had  stopped  before 
the  door,  a  groom  was  standing  at  the  leaders' 
heads,  and  the  master  of  this  splendid  equipage 
was  just  coming  in,  his  figure  looming  large 
and  imposing  in  the  door- way. 

"  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Jim, "  he  called  before 
he  was  well  inside  the  shop.  ' '  I  want  one  of 
your  ten-dollar  flower- books. ' ' 

Quite  unmoved  by  the  lavishness  of  her  cus 
tomer,  Marietta  rose  in  her  stately  way,  and 
drew  forth  several  specimens  of  her  most 
expensive  flower -book.  Dayton  examined 
them  with  an  attempt  to  be  discriminating,  re 
marking  that  the  book  was  for  some  California 
friends  of  his  wife  who  were  inclined  to  be 
' '  snifty  ' '  about  Colorado  flowers. 

"  That's  the  best  of  the  lot,"  Marietta  volun 
teered,  singling  out  one  which  her  customer 
had  overlooked. 


B  IRocfcg  fountain  Sbtpwrecfc          275 

"So  it  is,"  he  replied;  "  do  it  up  for  me, 
please." 

This  Marietta  proceeded  to  do  in  a  very 
leisurely  manner.  She  was  making  up  her 
mind  to  a  bold  step. 

"Say,  Mr.  Dayton,"  she  queried,  as  she 
took  the  last  fold  in  the  wrapping  paper ; 
"what's  the  best  mine  to  go  into?" 

"The  best  mine?  Oh,  I  would  n't  touch 
one  of  them  if  I  were  you  ! ' ' 

' '  Yes,  you  would,  if  you  were  me  !  So  you 
might  as  well  tell  me  a  good  one  or  I  might 
make  a  mistake." 

She  held  her  head  with  the  air  of  a  princess, 
while  the  look  of  a  wood-nymph  still  dwelt  in 
her  shadowy  eyes,  but  words  and  tone  meant 
' '  business. ' ' 

' '  How  much  money  have  you  got  to  lose  ?  ' ' 

"Oh,  fifty  or  a  hundred  dollars,"  she  said 
carelessly. 

Dayton  strolled  to  the  door  and  back  again 
before  he  answered.  He  was  annoyed  with 
Mrs.  Jim  for  placing  him  in  such  a  position, 
but  he  did  not  see  his  way  out  of  it.  The  next 
man  she  asked  might  be  a  sharper.  His  ideas 
of  woman's  "  sphere  "  were  almost  mediaeval, 
but  somehow  they  did  not  seem  to  fit  Mrs, 
Jim's  case. 


276  fl>eafc  anfc  ipraine 


"Well,"  he  said  at  last  with  evident  reluc 
tance  ;  "  the  '  Horn  of  Plenty  '  does  n't  seem 
to  be  any  worse  than  the  others,  and  it  may 
be  a  grain  better.  But  it 's  all  a  gamble,  just 
like  roulette  or  faro,  and  I  should  think  you 
had  better  keep  out  of  it  altogether. ' ' 

The  ' '  Horn  of  Plenty  "  !  It  was  a  name  to 
appeal  to  the  most  sluggish  imagination  ;  the 
mere  sound  of  it  filled  Marietta  with  a  joyful 
confidence.  Within  the  hour  she  had  hailed  a 
passing  broker  and  negotiated  with  him  for 
five  hundred  shares  of  the  stock  at  twenty 
cents  a  share. 

It  was  not  without  a  strange  pang,  to  be  sure, 
that  she  wrote  out  her  check  for  the  amount ; 
for  just  as  she  was  signing  her  name  the  un 
welcome  thought  crossed  her  mind  that  the 
person  who  was  selling  that  amount  of  stock 
for  a  hundred  dollars  must  believe  that  sum 
of  money  to  be  a  more  desirable  possession 
than  the  stock  !  She  felt  the  meaning  of  the 
situation  very  keenly,  but  she  did  not  betray 
her  misgivings.  As  she  finished  the  scrawling 
signature  she  only  lifted  her  head  with  a  defi 
ant  look,  and  said:  "If  anybody  tells  Jim, 
I  '11  chew  'em  up  !  " 

Inches,  the  broker,  thus  admonished,  only 
laughed.  Indeed,  the  thing  Inches  admired 


B  1Rocfc£  Mountain  Sbfpwrecfc          277 


most  in  Mrs.  Jim  was  her  forcible  manner  of 
expressing  herself.  He  admired  and  liked 
her  well  enough,  for  that  and  for  other  rea 
sons,  to  take  a  very  disinterested  pleasure  in 
putting  her  in  the  way  of  turning  an  honest 
penny. 

The  broker's  faith  in  the  "  Horn  of  Plenty  " 
was  almost  as  implicit  as  Marietta's  own,  and 
it  was  with  no  little  pride  that  he  brought  the 
certificate  in  to  her  the  following  day,  and  un 
folded  it  to  her  dazzled  contemplation.  It  was 
a  very  beauteous  production  done  in  green 
and  gold,  the  design  being  suggestive  and 
encouraging.  It  represented  a  woman  clad  in 
green,  pointing  with  a  magic  golden  wand  in 
her  left  hand  toward  a  group  of  toiling  green 
miners,  while  from  a  golden  cornucopia  in  her 
right  she  poured  a  shower  of  gold  upon  an 
already  portentous  pyramid  of  that  valuable 
metal,  planted  upon  a  green  field. 

As  Marietta  refolded  the  crisply  rustling 
paper,  Inches  bent  his  head  toward  her  and 
said,  confidentially  :  "She's  bound  to  touch 
fifty  cents  inside  of  thirty  days  ;  "  and  Marietta, 
still  thinking  of  the  bountiful  lady  of  the 
golden  cornucopia,  believed  him. 

11  Inside  of  thirty  days  "  the  "  H.  O.  P.," 
as  it  was  familiarly  called,  was  selling  at  forty- 


278  peafc  anfc  jpraine 

five  cents,  and  the  world  was  very  much 
agog  on  the  subject.  There  had  been  fluctua 
tions  in  the  meanwhile,  fluctuations  which 
Marietta  watched  with  eager  intentness. 
Once,  on  the  strength  of  disquieting  rumors 
about  the  management,  the  stock  dropped  to 
sixteen  cents  and  Marietta's  hopes  sank  accord 
ingly  ;  she  felt  as  if  she  had  picked  Jim's 
pocket.  But  the  "  H.  O.  P.,"  soon  rallied, 
and  day  by  day  it  crept  upwards  while  Mari 
etta's  spirits  crept  upwards  with  it,  cautiously, 
questioningly.  Should  she  sell?  Should  she 
hold  on  ?  If  only  she  might  talk  it  over  with 
Jim  !  That  was  something  she  poignantly 
missed  ;  she  had  never  had  a  secret  from  Jim 
before.  To  make  up  for  her  reticence  on  this 
point  she  used  to  tell  him  more  minutely  than 
ever  of  all  that  went  on  in  the  shop  below.  Jim 
thought  he  had  never  known  Marietta  so  enter 
taining. 

"  I  say,  Marietta,  it 's  a  shame  you  're  noth 
ing  but  a  shop-keeper's  wife  !  "  he  said  to 
her  one  evening  as  she  sat  darning  stockings 
by  the  lamp-light  in  the  dingy  attic  room. 
"You  'd  ought  to  have  been  a  duchess  or  a 
governor's  wife  or  something  like  that,  so  's 
folks  would  have  found  out  how  smart  you 
was." 


B  IRocfcg  Mountain  Sbtpwrecfc          279 


"  Listen  at  him  !  "  cried  Marietta. 

The  words  might  have  offended  the  taste  of 
the  governor  who  had  failed  to  secure  this  valu 
able  matrimonial  alliance,  but  the  poise  of  the 
pretty  head,  as  she  cast  an  affectionate  look 
upon  Jim,  lying  on  the  old  sofa,  would  have 
graced  the  proudest  duchess  of  them  all. 

Now  the  ' '  Horn  of  Plenty ' '  was  a  Lame 
Gulch  stock,  and,  since  the  mining-camp  of 
Lame  Gulch  had  been  in  existence  less  than  a 
year,  the  value  of  any  mine  up  there  was  a 
very  doubtful  quantity.  It  was  perhaps  the 
proximity  of  the  camp  to  Springtown,  that 
fired  the  imagination  of  the  Springtown  pub 
lic,  perhaps  the  daily  coming  and  going  of 
people  between  the  two  points.  Be  that  as  it 
may,  the  head  must  have  been  a  very  level  one 
indeed  that  could  keep  its  balance  through  the 
excitement  of  that  winter's  "boom."  There 
were  many  residents  of  Springtown  who  had  a 
sentiment  for  the  Peak,  more  intelligent  and 
more  imaginative  than  any  Marietta  could 
boast,  yet  it  is  probable  that  the  best  nature- 
lover  of  them  all  shared  something  of  her  feel 
ing,  now  that  she  had  come  to  regard  the  Peak 
as  the  mountain  on  the  other  side  of  which 
the  Lame  Gulch  treasures  lay  awaiting  their 
resurrection. 


280  jpeafc  anD  prairie 

' '  Just  the  other  side  of  the  Peak  ! ' '  What 
magic  in  those  words,  spoken  from  time  to 
time  by  one  and  another  of  the  Springtown 
people.  "Just  the  other  side  of  the  Peak  !  " 
Marietta  would  say  to  herself,  lifting  to  the 
noble  mountain  eyes  bright  with  an  interest 
such  as  he  in  his  grandest  mood  had  never 
awakened  there  before. 

Suppose  the  "Horn  of  Plenty"  should  go 
to  a  dollar  !— to  five  dollars,— to  ten  dollars,— 
to  twenty-five  dollars  !  Her  mind  took  the 
leap  with  ease  and  confidence.  Had  not  Bill 
Sanders  said  that  there  were  forty  millions  in 
it,  and  had  he  not  seen  the  mine  with  his  own 
eyes  ?  Marietta  had  a  mental  picture  of  a  huge 
mountain  of  solid  gold,  and  when,  to  complete 
the  splendor  of  the  impression,  men  talked  of 
"free  gold,"  the  term  seemed  to  her  to  sig 
nify  a  buoyant  quality,  the  quality  of  pouring 
itself  out  in  spontaneous  plenty.  She  heard 
much  talk  of  this  kind,  for  the  "  H.  O.  P." 
was  the  topic  of  the  hour,  and  her  customers 
discussed  it  among  themselves.  Forty  millions 
almost  in  plain  sight !  That  was  forty  dollars 
a  share,  and  she  had  five  hundred  shares  !  And 
all  this  time  she  was  thinking,  not  of  wealth 
and  luxury,  but  only  of  a  snug  cottage  in  a 
side  street,  where  there  should  be  two  windows 


1Rocfc£  fountain  Sbipwrecfc          281 


in  the  sitting-room,  where  she  might  sit  and 
chat  with  Jim  while  she  made  her  flower-books, 
planning  what  they  should  do  when  he  got 
well.  How  little  she  asked ;  how  reasonable 
it  was,  how  fair  !  And  if  only  the  "  H.  O.  P." 
were  to  go  to  five  dollars  a  share  she  would 
venture  it. 

Meanwhile  people  were  bidding  forty-five 
cents,  and  Inches  had  called  twice  in  one 
morning  to  ask  if  she  would  not  sell  at  that 
price. 

' '  What  makes  them  want  it  so  much  ? ' '  she 
asked  on  the  occasion  of  his  second  visit. 

"Oh,  just  an  idea  they  've  got  that  it  's 
going  higher,"  Inches  answered  indifferently. 

"Well,  s' posing  it  is;  why  should  I  want 
to  sell?" 

"Why,  you'd  have  made  a  pretty  good 
thing  in  it,  and  you  might  like  to  have  your 
bird  in  hand,  don't  you  know?  " 

Marietta  sat  down  to  her  flower-books  and 
worked  on  composedly,  while  Inches  still 
lingered. 

"That's  a  real  pretty  painting  of  the  Peak 
over  there,"  he  remarked  presently,  nodding 
his  head  toward  a  crude  representation  of  that 
much-travestied  mountain. 

Marietta  knew  better,  but  she  said  nothing. 


an£>  prairie 


'  What  do  you  ask  for  that  now  ? "  he 
persisted. 

"  Oh,  I  guess  about  a  hundred  dollars,"  she 
returned  facetiously.  "The  Peak  comes  high 
now-a-days,  'cause  Lame  Gulch  is  right  round 
on  the  other  side. ' ' 

There  was  another  pause  before  the  broker 
spoke  again. 

'Then,  s'posing  I  could  get  you  forty-six 
cents  for  your  stock,  would  you  take  it? 
That  's  rather  above  the  market  price,  you 
know." 

'Taint  up  to  my  price,"  said  Marietta, 
trying  to  make  a  group  of  painter's  brush 
look  artistic. 

"What  would  you  take  for  it  then  ?  "  asked 
Inches. 

Marietta  put  down  her  work  and  drew  her 
self  up,  to  rest  her  back,  and  make  an  end  of 
the  interview  at  a  blow. 

"Look  here,  Mr.  Inches,"  she  said,  with 
decision  ;  "  seeing  you  want  the  stock  so  bad, 
I  guess  I  '11  hold  on  to  it  !  " 

She  was  still  holding  on  with  unwavering 
persistence  when,  a  few  days  after  that,  Day 
ton  came  into  the  shop.  He  wondered,  as  he 
entered  the  door,  what  could  be  the  unpleasant 
association  that  was  aroused  in  him  by  the 


IRocfcE  Mountain  Sbipwrecfc          283 


familiar  atmosphere  of  skins  and  dried  flowers 
and  general  ' '  stock  in  trade  ' '  which  pervaded 
the  place.  No  sooner  did  his  eye  fall  upon 
Marietta  coming  towards  him,  however,  than 
he  recalled  the  distasteful  part  of  adviser  which 
had  been  forced  upon  him  on  the  occasion  of  his 
last  visit.  He  tried  to  think  that  he  had  washed 
his  hands  of  the  whole  matter,  but,  "  Mrs. 
Jim,"  he  found  himself  saying;  "did  you  go 
into  mines  the  other  day  ?  ' ' 

"Yes." 

"  What  did  you  buy  ?" 

"H.  O.  P." 

"  What  did  you  pay?" 

"Twenty  cents." 

"Sold  yet?" 

"No." 

Dayton  took  the  little  parcel  she  was  handing 
him.  He  had  come  in  for  a  lead-pencil  and 
had  bought,  in  addition,  a  stamp-box,  a  button 
hook,  and  a  plated  silver  photograph  frame, 
not  one  of  which  newly  acquired  treasures  he 
had  the  slightest  use  for.  They  were  very 
neatly  tied  up,  however.  He  wished  Mrs.  Jim 
would  stick  to  her  legitimate  ,  business  which 
she  did  uncommonly  well. 

11  I  think  I  would  sell  out  my  '  H.  O.  P.'  if 
I  were  you,"  he  said. 


284  peak  and  prairie 

"  Is  n't  it  going  any  higher?  "  she  asked. 

' '  Very  likely  ;  but  it '  s  a  swindle. ' ' 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"Well,  I  mean  that  the  management  's  bad, 
and  they  don't  know  the  first  thing  about  what 
they  've  got,  any  way.  Honestly,  Mrs.  Jim,  it 
is  n't  safe  to  hold." 

Marietta's  heart  sank  ;  if  she  sold  her  stock 
what  was  to  become  of  the  little  house  with 
the  two  windows  in  the  sitting-room  ?  She 
did  not  reply,  and  Dayton  went  on  : 

"  Of  course,"  he  said  ;  "  I  can't  tell  that  the 
thing  won't  go  to  a  dollar,  but  there  is  really 
no  basis  for  it.  I  've  sold  out  every  share  I 
held,  and  I  don't  regret  it,  though  it  has  gone 
up  ten  points  since  then." 

Marietta  regarded  him  attentively.  There 
was  no  mistaking  his  sincerity, — and  he  pro 
bably  knew  what  he  was  talking  about. 

' '  Well, ' '  she  said  at  last,  with  a  profound 
sigh  ;  "  I  guess  I  '11  do  as  you  say.  It  worked 
pretty  well  the  other  time. ' ' 

"  That 's  right,  Mrs.  Jim,  and  supposing  you 
let  me  have  your  stock.  I  can  probably  get 
you  fifty  cents  for  it  in  the  course  of  the 
day." 

She  took  the  certificate  from  a  drawer  close 
at  hand,  and  having  signed  it,  she  gave  one 


IRocfcg  Mountain  Sbipwrecfc          285 


lingering  farewell  look  at  the  green  lady  and 
her  golden  horn. 

' '  I  may  as  well  write  a  check  for  the  amount 
now,"  Dayton  said. 

"  But  maybe  you  can't  get  it." 

' '  More  likely  to  get  a  little  over.  If  I  do  I  '11 
bring  it  in." 

Dayton  looked  into  her  face  as  he  spoke,  and 
its  beauty  struck  him  as  pathetic.  There 
were  lines  and  shadows  there  which  he  had  not 
noticed  before. 

"I  wish,  Mrs.  Jim,"  he  said,  "  that  you 
would  n't  do  anything  more  in  mines  ;  it 's  an 
awfully  risky  business  at  the  best.  There  is  n't 
one  of  us  that  knows  the  first  thing  about  it." 

She  gave  him  a  sceptical  look;  was  he  so 
entirely  sincere,  after  all  ? 

"  Some  of  you  know  enough  about  it  to 
make  an  awful  lot  of  money  in  it,"  she  an 
swered  quietly. 

"  That  is  n't  knowledge,  "  he  declared  ; 
"it's luck  !  " 

' '  Comes  to  the  same  thing  in  the  end, ' '  said 
Marietta. 

If  it  had  not  been  for  those  pathetic  lines 
and  shadows,  Dayton  would  have  turned  on 
his  heel  then  and  there,  disgusted  with  what 
seemed  to  him  unfeminine  shrewdness.  As  it 


286  peak  anD  prairie 


was,  he  said  :  "  Well,  then,  why  not  let  me  be 
your  broker?  I  'm  on  the  street  half  the  time, 
and  I  could  attend  to  your  business  a  great 
deal  better  than  you  could." 

Marietta  did  not  commit  herself  to  any  agree 
ment.  She  put  her  check  away,  still  too 
regretful  about  the  dreams  she  had  relin 
quished,  to  rejoice  in  the  mere  doubling  of  her 
money. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  she  was  paying  a  visit 
to  Jim.  In  spite  of  the  brilliant  sunshine  that 
flooded  the  little  garret,  at  this  hour,  the  place 
seemed  dingier  and  drearier  than  ever.  Jim, 
too,  she  thought,  was  not  looking  quite  as  well 
as  usual  ;  his  hand  as  she  took  it  was  hot  and 
dry.  She  knelt  down  beside  him  and  they 
looked  out  at  the  Peak,  rising  grand  and  im 
posing  beyond  the  low  roofs.  Marietta  was 
thinking  of  the  gold,  "just  round  on  the  other 
side,"  but  Jim's  thoughts  had  wandered  farther 
still ;  or  was  it,  after  all,  nearer  to  the  sick 
man  with  the  wistful  light  in  his  eyes  ? 

' '  I  say,  Marietta, ' '  he  said,  ' '  I  wonder  what 
Heaven  's  like." 

She  had  never  heard  him  speak  like  that, 
and  the  words  went  to  her  heart  like  a  knife. 
But  she  answered,  gently  : 

"I  guess  we  don't  know  much  about  it, 
Jim  ;  only  that  it'll  be  Heaven." 


B  IRocfeE  fountain  Sbipwrecfc          287 


"  I  suppose  when  we  get  there,  you  and  I, 
Springtown  will  seem  very  far  away." 

"  I  don't  know,  Jim,  "  Marietta  said,  look 
ing  still  out  toward  the  Peak,  but  thinking  no 
longer  of  the  gold  on  the  other  side.  ' '  I 
should  n't  like  any  of  our  life  together  ever  to 
seem  very  far  away." 

Just  then  the  sound  of  the  horn  rang  musi 
cally  down  the  street  and  a  moment  later  the 
brake  went  by.  The  horses'  heads  were 
toward  home  and  they  knew  it ;  the  harness 
jingled  and  glittered.  On  the  brake  were  half- 
a-dozen  well-dressed  people  laughing  and  talk 
ing  gaily  ;  health  and  prosperity  seemed  visibly 
in  attendance  upon  that  little  company  of  fortu- 
nates.  They  passed  like  a  vision,  and  again 
the  sound  of  the  horn  came  ringing  down  the 
street. 

Jim  turned  and  looked  at  Marietta  who  had 
been  almost  as  excited  as  he.  A  thousand 
thoughts  had  chased  themselves  through  her 
brain  as  the  brake  went  by.  She  sighed  in  the 
energetic  manner  peculiar  to  her,  and  then  she 
said  :  "  O  Jim  !  If  you  could  only  be  like  that 
for  just  one  day  ! ' ' 

Perhaps  he  had  had  the  same  thought  but 
her  words  dispelled  it. 

"  Never  mind,  Etta,"  he  said.  "  I  wouldn't 
change  with  him;  "  and  Marietta  shut  away 


288  peak  ant)  prairie 


the  little  speech  in  her  heart  to  be  happy  over 
at  her  leisure. 

The  next  day  the  invalid  was  not  as  well  as 
usual  and  Mrs.  Jim  spent  half  her  time  running 
up  and  down  stairs.  Inches  came  in  in  the 
course  of  the  day  and  offered  her  sixty  cents  for 
her  "  Horn  of  Plenty,"  and  she  thought  with 
a  pang  how  fast  it  was  going  up.  The 
thought  haunted  her  all  day  long,  but  she  could 
not  leave  Jim  to  take  any  steps  toward  retriev 
ing  her  opportunity,  and  after  that  first  visit 
Inches  did  not  come  in  again.  She  took  out 
her  big  check  once  or  twice  in  the  course  of 
the  day  and  looked  at  it  resentfully  ;  and  as  she 
brooded  upon  the  matter,  it  was  borne  in  upon 
her  with  peculiar  force  that  she  had  made  a 
fatal  blunder  in  exchanging  her  ' '  chances  ' ' 
for  that  fixed,  inexpansive  sum.  Had  it  not 
been  cowardly  in  her  to  yield  so  easily  ?  Sup 
posing  Dayton  himself  had  lacked  courage  at 
the  critical  moment ;  where  would  his  four-in- 
hand  have  been  to-day  ?  She  was  sure  that  no 
timid  speculator  had  ever  made  a  fortune  ;  on 
the  contrary,  she  had  often  heard  it  said  that  a 
flash  of  courage  at  the  right  moment  was  the 
very  essence  of  success  in  speculation.  She 
remembered  the  expression  ' '  essence  of  suc 
cess.  ' ' 


a  IRocfeE  Mountain  Sbtpwrecfc          289 

By  the  time  evening  came  the  fever  of  specu 
lation  was  high  in  her  veins,  and  urged  on  by 
her  own  brooding  fancies,  uncontradicted  from 
without,  unexposed  to  the  light  of  day,  she  did 
an  incredible  thing. 

As  she  drew  forth  her  writing  materials  in 
order  to  put  her  new  and  startling  resolution 
into  execution,  she  paused  and  looked  about 
the  familiar  little  shop  with  a  feeling  of  es 
trangement.  There  was  an  incongruity  be 
tween  the  boldness  of  the  thing  she  was  about 
to  do,  and  the  hard  and  fast  limitations  of  her 
lot,  which  the  sight  of  those  humble  properties 
brought  sharply  home  to  her.  The  first  pen 
she  took  up  was  stiff  and  scratchy  ;  the  sound 
of  it  was  like  a  challenge  to  the  outer  world  to 
come  and  pass  judgment  upon  her.  She  flung 
the  pen  to  one  side  in  nervous  trepidation,  and 
then  she  searched  until  she  found  one  that  was 
soft  and  pliable,  and  went  whispering  over  the 
paper  like  a  fellow-conspirator. 

This  was  what  she  wrote  : 

"  DEAR  MR.  DAYTON, 

"  I  want  to  go  into  the  '  Horn  of  Plenty '  again,  and 
I  can't  get  away  to  attend  to  it.  I  enclose  your  check, 
and  one  of  my  own  for  $400.  Please  buy  me  what  the 
money  will  bring.  They  say  it  is  n't  a  swindle,  and 
any  way  I  want  some.  You  said  to  come  to  you,  aud 
19 


peak  anD  prairie 


that  was  the  same  as  saying  you  'd  do  it,  if  I  asked 
you  to.  I  don't  care  what  you  pay  ;  get  what  you 
can  for  the  money. 

"Yours  truly, 

"M.  BIXBY." 

Another  morning  found  Jim  so  ill  that  they 
sent  for  the  doctor.  On  the  same  day  Inches 
came  in  and  offered  seventy-five  cents  for  the 
stock.  Marietta  had  not  told  him  that  it  was 
sold  and  she  did  not  propose  to  do  so.  In  the 
afternoon  the  price  had  "jumped"  to  ninety 
cents,  but  by  that  time  she  was  too  anxious 
about  Jim  to  care. 

For  five  weeks  the  ' '  Art  Emporium  ' '  was 
closed,  and  in  that  time  the  face  of  the  world 
had  changed  for  Marietta.  She  realized  the 
change  when  she  came  down-stairs  and  opened 
the  shop  again.  It  was  impossible  to  feel  that 
life  was  restored  to  its  old  basis.  There  was  a 
change  too  in  her,  which  was  patent  to  the 
most  casual  observer.  It  was,  indeed,  a  very 
wan  and  thin  Marietta  that  at  last  came  for 
ward  to  meet  her  customers  ;  her  eyes  looked 
alarmingly  big,  and  though  nothing  could  dis 
turb  the  pose  of  the  beautiful  head,  there  was  a 
droop  in  the  figure,  that  betokened  bodily  and 
mental  exhaustion. 

A  good  many  customers  came  in  to  make 


fountain  Sbipwrech          291 


Kaster  purchases, — for  the  following  Sunday 
was  Easter, — and  many  others  to  inquire  for 
Jim.  As  the  old,  familiar  life  began  to  reas 
sert  itself,  as  she  began  to  feel  at  home  again 
in  the  old,  accustomed  surroundings,  her  mind 
recurred,  in  a  half-dazed  way,  to  her  specula 
tion.  She  did  not  herself  know  much  about  it, 
for  Dayton  had  never  sent  her  her  certificate. 
Probably  he  had  come  with  it  when  the  shop 
was  closed.  She  supposed  she  must  be  too 
tired  to  have  much  courage  ;  that  must  be  why 
her  heart  sank  at  the  thought  of  what  she  had 
done.  She  was  sitting  by  the  work-table,  her 
head  in  her  hands,  pondering  dully.  At  the 
sound  of  the  shop-bell  she  looked  up,  mechani 
cally,  and  saw  Inches  coming  in. 

' '  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Jim, "  he  said.  "  How  's 
your  husband? " 

"Jim's  better,  thank  you,"  she  replied,  and 
the  sound  of  her  own  confident  words  dispelled 
the  clouds. 

Inches  looked  at  her  narrowly,  and  then  he 
began  pulling  the  ears  of  a  mounted  fox-skin 
that  was  lying  on  the  counter,  as  he  remarked 
casually  :  "  Hope  you  got  rid  of  your  '  H.  O.  P.' 
in  time." 

' '  In  time  ? ' '  she  asked.  ' '  In  time  ?  What 
do  you  mean  ? ' ' 


292  jpeafc  an£>  prairie 


"  Why,  before  they  closed  down.  You  sold 
out,  I  hope  ?  ' ' 

There  was  a  sudden  catch  in  her  breath. 

"  Yes,  I  sold  out  some  time  ago." 

"Glad  of  that,"  he  declared,  with  very 
evident  relief,  suddenly  losing  interest  in  the 
fox's  ears.  Inches  had  none  of  Dayton's  pre 
judices  in  regard  to  woman's  "sphere,"  but 
he  was  none  the  less  rejoiced  to  know  that  this 
particular  woman,  with  the  tired-looking  eyes, 
had  not  "  got  hurt,"  as  he  would  have  put  it. 

"It's  been  a  bad  business  all  round,"  he 
went  on,  waxing  confidential  as  he  was  prone 
to  do.  ' '  Why,  I  knew  a  man  that  bought 
twenty  thousand  shares  at  a  dollar-ten  three 
weeks  ago,  just  before  she  closed  down,  and 
he  's  never  had  the  sand  to  sell." 

' '  What  could  he  get  to-day  ? ' '  Marietta 
asked.  Her  voice  sounded  in  her  ears  strange 
and  far  away. 

"Well,  I  don't  know.  I  was  offered  some 
at  six  cents,  but  I  don't  know  anybody  that 
wants  it." 

Marietta's  throat  felt  parched  and  dry,  and 
now  there  was  a  singing  in  her  ears  ;  but  she 
gave  no  outward  sign. 

"  Pretty  hard  on  some  folks,"  she  remarked, 

* '  I  should  say  so  !  " 


IRocfcg  -Aountafn  Sbtpwrecfc          293 


There  was  a  din  in  her  ears  all  that  after 
noon,  which  was  perhaps  a  fortunate  circum 
stance,  for  it  shut  out  all  possibility  of  thought. 
It  was  not  until  night  came  that  the  din 
stopped,  and  her  brain  became  clear  again, — 
cruelly,  pitilessly  clear. 

Deep  into  the  night  she  lay  awake  torment 
ing  herself  with  figures.  How  hideous,  how 
intolerable  they  were  !  They  passed  and  re- 
passed  in  her  brain  in  the  uncompromising 
search  light  of  conscience,  like  malicious, 
mouthing  imps.  They  were  her  debts  and 
losses,  they  stood  for  disgrace  and  penury, 
they  menaced  the  very  foundation  of  her  life 
and  happiness. 

Doubtless  the  man  who  had  put  many  thou 
sands  into  the  "  Horn  of  Plenty,"  and  had 
lacked  the  "  sand  "  to  sell,  would  have  won 
dered  greatly  that  a  fellow-creature  should  be 
suffering  agony  on  account  of  a  few  hundred 
dollars.  Yet  he,  in  his  keenest  pang  of  disap 
pointment,  knew  nothing  whatever  of  the  awful 
word  "  ruin  "  ;  while  Marietta,  staring  up  into 
the  darkness,  was  getting  that  lesson  by  heart. 

The  town-clock  striking  three  seemed  to 
pierce  her  consciousness  and  relieve  the  strain. 
She  wished  the  sofa  she  was  lying  upon  were 
not  so  hard  and  narrow  ;  perhaps  if  she  were 


294  peafc  an£>  prairie 


more  comfortable  she  might  be  able  to  sleep, 
and  then,  in  the  morning,  she  might  see  light. 
Of  course  there  was  light,  somewhere,  if  she 
could  only  find  it ;  but  who  ever  found  the 
light,  lying  on  a  hard  sofa,  in  pitchy  dark 
ness  ?  Perhaps  if  she  were  to  get  up  and  move 
about  things  would  seem  less  intolerable.  And 
with  the  mere  thought  of  action  the  tired 
frame  relaxed,  the  straining  eyes  were  sealed 
with  sleep,  the  curtain  of  unconsciousness  had 
fallen  upon  the  troubled  stage  of  her  mind. 

And  when,  at  dawn,  Jim  opened  frightened 
eyes,  and  struggled  with  a  terrible  oppression 
to  speak  her  name,  Marietta  was  still  sleeping 
profoundly. 

"Etta!"  he  gasped.     "  O,  Etta!" 

And  Marietta  heard  the  whispered  name, 
and  thrusting  out  her  hands,  as  if  to  tear  away 
a  physical  bond,  broke  through  the  torpor  that 
possessed  her,  and  stood  upon  her  feet.  She 
staggered,  white  and  trembling,  to  Jim's  bed 
side,  and  there,  in  the  faint  light,  she  saw  that 
he  was  dying. 

"Etta,  Etta,"  he  whispered,  "I  want 
you!" 

She  sank  upon  her  knees  beside  him,  but 
the  hand  she  folded  in  her  own  was  already 
lifeless. 


a  Hocus  .Aountafn  Sbfpwrecfc          295 


heaven  - 


ffijL'ss 
*«iii  - 


296  peak  anfc  prairie 

done  for  her,  that  all  the  lesson  of  ruin  she 
had  conned  through  those  horrible  black  hours, 
when  Jim  was  dying  and  she  did  not  know  it, 
— that  lesson  at  least  had  lost  its  meaning. 
Ruin  could  not  hurt  Jim  now,  and  she  ? — she 
might  even  find  distraction  in  it, — find  relief. 

She  went  down  into  the  dimly  lighted  shop, 
where  the  shades  were  closely  drawn  in  the 
door  and  in  the  broad  show-window.  In  that 
strange  midday  twilight,  she  gathered  up  her 
mail,  and  then  she  seated  herself  in  her  old 
place  behind  the  counter,  and  began  the  exami 
nation  of  it. 

There  were  all  the  bills,  just  as  she  had  an 
ticipated  ;  bills  for  food  and  bills  for  medicine  ; 
bills  for  all  those  useless  odds  and  ends  which 
made  up  her  stock  in  trade,  which  she  and  Jim 
had  been  so  proud  of  a  few  years  ago  when 
they  first  came  to  Springtown.  She  wrote  out 
the  various  sums  in  a  long  column,  just  to  look 
at  them  all  together,  and  to  feel  how  little  harm 
they  could  do  her  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  the 
dull,  lifeless  work,  she  came  upon  a  letter 
which  did  not  look  like  a  bill.  As  she  drew 
it  from  the  envelope,  two  slips  of  paper  fell  out 
of  it,  two  slips  of  paper  which  she  picked  up 
and  read,  with  but  a  dazed,  bewildered  atten 
tion.  They  were  the  checks  she  had  sent  to 


fountain  Sbfpwrecfc 


2Q7 


anxious  about  the         ter  a1  ^  ^ 
relieve  her  mind      Wb,    i         he  hastened  to 
ld-     Whlle  he  apologized  for  his 


298  jpeafc  anfc  prairie 

own  carelessness,  he  congratulated  her  upon 
her  escape. 

He  congratulates  me,  he  congratulates 
me  !  "  she  whispered  hoarsely  ;  "  O  my 
God!" 

She  did  not  yet  comprehend  the  letter  nor 
the  checks  which  had  fluttered  to  the  floor. 
It  was  only  the  last  sentence  that  she  took  note 
of,  because  of  its  jarring  sense. 

Suddenly  the  meaning  of  it  all  broke  upon 
her.  Those  were  her  checks  !  Ruin  had 
evaded  her  !  She  could  not  prove  upon  it  her 
loyalty  to  Jim,  her  loyalty  to  grief.  Fate  had 
shipwrecked  her,  and  now  it  was  decreed  that 
the  sun  should  shine  and  the  sea  subside  in 
smiling  peace.  It  was  more  than  she  could 
bear.  She  flung  the  letter  from  her,  and, 
stooping,  she  picked  up  the  checks  and  crushed 
them  in  her  clenched  hands.  How  dared  they 
come  back  to  mock  at  her  !  How  dared  Fate 
take  her  all,  and  toss  her  what  she  did  not 
value  !  How  dared — Heaven  ?  Was  it  Heaven 
she  was  defying  ?  Ah  !  she  must  not  lose  her 
soul,  Heaven  knew  she  would  not  lose  her 
soul — for  Jim's  sake  ! 

She  opened  her  clenched  hands  and  smoothed 
out  the  checks,  patiently,  meekly  ;  and  then 
she  went  on  with  the  bills,  a  strange  calm  in 


B  1Rocfc£  Mountain  Sbipvvrecfc          299 

her  mind,  different  from  the  calm  of  the  last 
three  days. 

And  then,  for  the  first  time,  it  struck  her 
that  the  bills  were  all  made  out  to  Jim. 

JAMES  BIXBY, 

to  HIRAM  ROGERS,  Dr. 
to  JAMES  WILKINS,  Dr. 

to  FIELDS  &  LYMAN,  Dr. 

It  was  his  name  that  would  have  been  dis 
graced,  not  hers  ;  his  memory  would  have  been 
stained.  She  turned  white  with  terror  of  the 
danger  past. 

After  a  while  she  put  the  bills  aside,  and 
drew  out  her  folios  of  pressed  flowers.  It 
seemed  a  hundred  years  since  she  had  worked 
upon  them.  How  exquisite  they  were,  those 
delicate  ghosts  of  flowers  ; — the  regal  colum 
bine,  the  graceful  gilia,  coreopsis  gleaming 
golden,  anemones,  pale  and  soft.  How  they 
kept  their  loveliness  when  life  was  past  !  They 
were  only  flower  memories,  but  how  fair  they 
were,  and  how  lasting  !  No  frost  to  blight 
them,  no  winds  to  tear  their  silken  petals  any 
more  !  Well  might  they  outlast  the  hand  that 
pressed  them  ! 

And  soon  Marietta  found  herself  doing  the 
old,  accustomed  work  with  all  the  old  skill,  and 


300  peak  anfc  prairie 

with  a  new  grace  and  delicacy  of  touch.  And 
when  the  friends  in  her  old  home  which  she 
had  left  for  Jim's  sake,  urged  her  to  come  back 
to  them,  she  answered,  no  ;— she  would  rather 
stay  in  Colorado  and  do  her  flower-books  ;— 
adding,  in  a  hand  that  scrawled  more  than 
usual  with  the  effort  for  composure  : 
They  are  my  consolation. ' ' 


XI. 


A   STROKED   IN   THE   GAME. 

'"T  HE  mining  boom  was  off,  and  Spring- 
*  town  was  feeling  the  reaction  as  severely 
as  so  sanguine  and  sunny  a  little  place  was 
capable  of  doing.  To  one  who  had  witnessed, 
a  year  or  more  previous,  the  rising  of  the  tide 
of  speculation,  whose  tossing  crest  had  flung 
its  glittering  drops  upon  the  loftiest  and  firmest 
rocks  of  the  business  community,  the  streets 
of  the  little  Rocky  Mountain  town  had  some 
thing  the  aspect  of  the  shore  at  low  tide.  Such 
a  witness  was  Harry  Wakefield,  if,  indeed,  a 
man  may  be  said  to  have  "  witnessed  "  a  com 
motion  which  has  swept  him  off  his  feet  and 
whirled  him  about  like  a  piece  of  driftwood,, 
It  was,  to  be  sure,  quite  in  the  character  of  p 
piece  of  driftwood  that  Wakefield  had  let  him 
self  be  drawn  into  the  whirlpool,  and  he  could 
not  escape  the  feeling  that,  tossed  as  he  was, 
301 


302  ipeafc  and  fcrairie 


high  and  dry  upon  the  shore,  he  was  getting 
quite  as  good  as  he  deserved. 

"Yes,  I  'm  busted  !"  he  remarked  to  his 
friend  Chittenden,  the  stock-broker,  as  the  two 
men  paused  before  the  office-door  of  the  latter. 
"  It  was  the  Race-Horse  that  finished  me  up. 
No,  thanks,  I  won't  come  in.  A  burnt  child 
dreads  the  fire  !  ' ' 

"We're  all  cool  enough  now-a-days," 
Chittenden  replied,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 
"  Could  n't  get  up  a  blaze  to  heat  a  flat-iron  !  " 
and  he  passed  in  to  the  office,  with  the  air  of  a 
man  whose  occupation  is  gone. 

As  Wakefield  turned  down  the  street,  his 
eye  fell  upon  a  stock-board  across  the  way,  a 
board  upon  which  had  once  been  jotted  down 
from  day  to  day,  a  record  of  his  varying  for 
tunes.  He  remembered  how,  a  few  months 
ago,  that  same  board  showed  white  with  L,ame 
Gulch  quotations.  He  reflected  that,  while  the 
price  set  against  each  stock  had  made  but  a 
modest  showing,  running  from  ten  cents  up 
into  the  second  dollar,  a  man  of  sense, — suppos 
ing  such  a  phenomenon  to  have  weathered  the 
"boom," — would  have  been  impressed  with 
the  fact  that  the  valuation  thus  placed  upon 
the  infant  camp  aggregated  something  like 
twenty  millions  of  dollars.  The  absurdity  of 


B  Stroke  in  tbe  (Same  303 

the  whole  thing  struck  Wakefield  with  added 
force,  as  he  read  the  solitary  announcement 
which  now  graced  the  board, — namely  : 

"  To  exchange  :  1000  Race-Horse  for  a  bull-terrier 
pup." 

"Kind  o'  funny;  ain't  it?"  said  a  voice 
close  beside  him. 

It  was  Dicky  Simmons,  a  youth  of  seedy 
aspect,  but  a  cheerful  countenance,  who  had 
come  up  with  him,  and  was  engaged  in  the 
perusal  of  the  same  announcement. 

"Hullo,  Simmons!  Where  do  you  hail 
from  ?  ' ' 

"  From  Barnaby's  ranch.  I  'm  trying  my 
hand  at  agriculture  until  this  thing  's  blown 
over  ! ' ' 

"  Think  it  's  going  to  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes  !  When  the  tide  's  dead  low  it  's 
sure  to  turn  ! ' '  and  the  old  hopeful  look 
glistened  in  the  boy's  face. 

''That's  the  case  in  Nature,"  Wakefield 
objected.  "Nature  hadn't  anything  to  do 
with  the  boom.  It  was  contrary  to  all  the 
laws." 

"Oh,  I  guess  Nature  has  a  hand  in  most 
things,"  Dicky  replied  with  cheerful  assurance. 
"Anyhow  she  's  made  a  big  deal  up  at  Lame 


304  jpeafc  anfc  prairfe 


Gulch,  and  those  of  us  who  've  got  the  sand 
to  hold  on  will  find  that  she  's  in  the  manage 
ment." 

"Think  so?" 

"Sure  of  it  !" 

"Hope  you  're  right.  Anyhow,  though, 
I  'd  try  the  old  girl  on  agriculture  for  a  while, 
if  I  were  you.  How  's  Barnaby  doing,  by  the 
way  ?  ' ' 

"  Holding  on  by  the  skin  of  his  teeth." 

"  What  's  wrong  there  ?  " 

"Can't  collect ;  "  was  the  laconic  reply. 

The  two  companions  in  adversity  were  walk 
ing  toward  the  post-office,  moved,  perhaps,  by 
the  subtle  attraction  which  that  institution 
exercises  over  the  man  who  is  "down  on  his 
luck."  There  was  no  mail  due,  yet  they 
turned,  with  one  accord,  in  at  the  door,  and 
repaired  to  their  respective  boxes.  As  Wake- 
field  looked  up  from  the  inspection  of  his  empty 
one,  he  saw  Simmons,  with  an  open  letter  or 
circular  in  his  hand.  Catching  Wakefield's 
eye  he  laughed. 

"  Well?  "  Wakefield  queried. 

"  You  know,  Wake,"  said  Dicky,  in  a  confi 
dential  tone.  "The  thing's  too  funny  to  be 
serious.  Here  's  the  Trailing  Arbutus  (you're 
not  in  that,  I  believe),  capitalization  a  million 


Stroke  in  tbe  (Same  305 


and  a  half  shares,  calls  a  meeting  of  stock 
holders  to  consider  how  to  raise  money  to  get 
the  mine  out  of  the  hands  of  a  receiver.  Now, 
guess  how  much  money  they  want !  ' ' 

' '  How  much  ?  ' ' 

"Five  hundred  dollars!  Five  hundred  dol 
lars  on  a  million  and  a  half  shares  !  I  say, 
Wake,  they  could  n't  be  funnier  if  they 
tried!" 

Agreeable  as  Dicky's  company  usually  was, 
Wakefield  was  glad  when  the  boy  hailed  the 
Barnaby  milk-cart,  and  betook  himself  and  his 
insistent  brightness  under  its  canvas  shelter. 
The  white  covered  wagon  went  rattling  out  of 
town,  and  Wakefield,  somewhat  to  his  sur 
prise,  found  himself  striding  after  it. 

"Anyhow,  he's  hit  it  off  better  than  I 
have,"  he  said  to  himself  ;  and  as  he  perceived 
how  rapidly  the  cart  was  disappearing,  he  had 
a  sense  of  being  distanced,  and  he  involun 
tarily  quickened  his  pace. 

The  street  he  was  following  was  one  that  he 
strongly  approved  of,  because  it  had  the  origi 
nality  to  cut  diagonally  across  the  rectangular 
plan  of  the  town.  The  houses. on  either  hand 
were  small  and  unpretentious,  but  tidy  little 
homesteads,  and  he  did  not  like  to  think  of 
the  mortgages  with  which,  according  to  Chit- 


3o6  peak  anfc  prairie 


tenden,  the  "  boom  "  had  weighted  more  than 
one  modest  roof.  In  the  strong  sense  of  gen 
eral  disaster  which  he  was  struggling  under, 
those  mortgages  seemed  almost  visible  to  the 
eye.  He  was  glad  when  he  had  left  the  town 
behind  him,  and  was  marching  on  between 
stretches  of  uncultivated  prairie  and  bare  red 
dish  hillocks.  They,  at  least,  stood  for  what 
they  were, — and  see,  how  the  wildflowers  had 
thrust  themselves  up  through  the  harsh  gritty 
sand  ;  that  great  tract  of  yellow  vetches,  for 
instance,  that  had  brought  up  out  of  the  earth 
a  glory  of  gold  that  might  well  put  all  I^ame 
Gulch  to  the  blush  !  Over  yonder  stood  the 
Range,  not  beautiful,  in  the  uncompromising 
noon  light,  but  strong  and  steadfast,  with  an 
almost  moral  vigor  in  its  outlines. 

He  had  lost  sight  of  the  milk-cart  alto 
gether,  and  was  plodding  on,  simply  because 
there  seemed  to  be  nothing  better  to  do  with 
himself.  He  presently  came  opposite  a  low, 
conical  hill  which  he  recognized  as  "  Mt. 
Washington," — a  hill  whose  elevation  above 
sea-level  was  said  to  be  precisely  that  of  New 
England's  loftiest  peak.  Wakefield  reflected 
that  he  was  never  likely  to  reach  that  classic 
altitude  with  less  exertion  than  to-day,  and 
that  on  the  whole  it  would  be  rather  pleasant 


Stroke  in  tbe  (3ame  307 


than  otherwise  to  find  himself  at  that  particu 
lar  height.  There  was  a  barbed-wire  fence 
intervening,  and  it  pleased  him  to  take  it  "on 
the  fly."  He  had  undoubtedly  been  going 
down-hill  of  late,  but  his  legs,  at  least,  had 
held  their  own,  he  assured  himself,  with  some 
satisfaction,  as  he  alighted,  right  side  up, 
within  the  enclosure.  He  thought,  with  a 
whimsical  turn,  of  Pheidippides,  the  youth 
who  used  his  legs  to  such  good  purpose  ;  who 
"ran  like  fire," — shouted,  "Rejoice,  we  con 
quer!" — then  "died  in  the  shout  for  his 
meed."  How  simple  life  once  was,  according 
to  Browning  and  the  rest  !  What  a  muddle  it 
was  to-day,  according  to  Harry  Wakefield  ! 
And  all  because  a  girl  had  refused  him  !  He 
had  been  trying  all  along  not  to  think  of  Dorothy 
Ray,  but  by  the  time  he  had  reached  the  sum 
mit  of  the  hill, — that  little  round  of  red  sand, 
where  only  a  single  yellow  cactus  had  had  the 
courage  to  precede  him, — he  knew  that  his 
hour  of  reckoning  had  come.  He  had  gam 
bled,  yes  ;  but  it  was  for  her  sake  he  had 
gambled  ;  he  had  lost,  yes,  but  it  was  she  he 
had  lost. 

He  flung  himself  down  on  the  bare  red  hill 
top,  and  with  his  chin  in  his  hands,  gazed 
across  irrigated  meadows  and  parched  foot- 


peak  anfc  prairie 


hills  to  the  grim  slope  of  the  mountains.  And 
stretched  there,  with  his  elbows  digging  into 
the  sandy  soil,  his  mind  bracing  itself  against 
the  everlasting  hills,  he  let  the  past  draw 
near. 

There  was  an  atmosphere  about  that  past,  a 
play  of  light  and  shadow,  a  mist  of  poetry  and 
romance,  that  made  the  Colorado  landscape  in 
the  searching  noon  light  seem  typical  of  the 
life  he  had  led  there  : — a  crude,  prosaic,  me 
tallic  sort  of  life.  And  after  the  first  shrinking 
from  the  past,  his  mind  began  to  feel  deli- 
ciously  at  home  in  it. 

How  he  had  loved  Dorothy  Ray  !  How  the 
thought  of  her  had  pervaded  his  life,  as  the 
sunshine  pervades  a  landscape  !  Yet  not  like 
the  sunshine  ;  for  sunshine  is  fructifying,  and 
his  life  had  been  singularly  fruitless.  There 
was  no  shirking  the  truth,  that  the  year  he 
had  spent  reading  law  in  her  father's  office, 
the  year  he  had  discovered  that  his  old  friend 
and  playmate  was  the  girl  of  his  choice,  had 
been  a  wasted  year.  In  all  that  did  not  di 
rectly  concern  her  he  had  dawdled,  and  Dor 
othy  knew  and  resented  it. 

He  remembered  how,  on  one  occasion,  she 
had  openly  preferred  Aleck  Dorr  to  himself  ; 
Aleck  Dorr,  with  his  ugly  face  and  boorish 


B  Stroke  in  tbc  (Same  309 


manners,  who  was  cutting  a  dash  with  a  newly 
acquired  fortune. 

"  Dorothy,"  Wakefield  asked  abruptly,  the 
next  time  he  got  speech  of  her, — it  was  at  the 
Assembly  and  she  had  only  vouchsafed  him 
two  dances, — "Dorothy,  what  do  you  like 
about  that  boor  ? ' ' 

"In  the  first  place  he  isn't  a  boor,"  she 
answered.  "  He  's  as  gentlemanlike  as  pos 
sible." 

"Supposing  he  is,  then  !  That's  a  recom 
mendation  most  of  us  possess." 

She  gave  him  a  scrutinizing,  almost  wistful 
look.  How  dear  she  was,  standing  there  in 
the  brilliant  gas-light,  fresh  and  natural  in  her 
ball-dress  and  sparkling  jewels  as  she  had  been 
when  her  hair  hung  down  in  a  big  braid  over 
her  gingham  frock. 

"You  gentlemanlike?  That's  something 
you  could  never  be,  Harry, — because  you  are  a 
gentleman.  But  that 's  all  you  are, ' '  she  added, 
with  a  sudden  impatience  that  checked  his  ris 
ing  elation. 

"  I  don't  see  that  there  was  any  call  for 
snubbing,"  he  retorted  angrily.  He  was 
often  angry  with  Dorothy  ;  that  was  part  of 
the  old  good-fellowship  he  had  used  to  value  so 
much,  but  which  seemed  so  insufficient  now. 


310  ifreafc  ant)  prairie 


' '  Snubbing  ?  I  thought  I  made  you  a  very 
pretty  compliment,"  she  answered,  with  a  little 
caressing  tone  that  he  found  illogically  com 
forting. 

"You  haven't  told  me  why  you  like  this 
gentlemanlike  boor,"  he  persisted. 

' '  I  should  think  anybody  might  see  that  ! 
I  like  him  because  he  amounts  to  something  ; 
because  he  has  made  a  fortune,  if  you  insist. 
It  takes  a  man  to  do  that  !  ' ' 

Upon  which,  before  Wakefield  had  succeeded 
in  framing  a  suitable  retort,  Dorr  came  up, 
with  a  ponderous  joke,  and  claimed  a  promised 
waltz. 

Well  !  Dorr  need  not  be  in  such  thundering 
spirits  !  He  had  no  chance  with  her  at  any 
rate  ! 

And  only  a  few  months  later  it  turned  out 
that  he,  Harry  Wakefield,  had  as  little  chance 
as  Dorr. 

At  this  point  in  his  reflections  Wakefield's 
elbows  began  to  feel  rough  and  gritty.  He 
turned  himself  round  and  sat  with  his  back  to 
the  mountains,  looking  eastward,  his  hands 
clasping  one  knee.  He  was  glad  the  prairie 
was  broken  up  into  mounds  and  hillocks  over 
there,  and  had  not  the  look  of  the  sea  that  it 
took  on  from  some  points  of  view.  There  was 


a  Stroke  in  tbe  iBame  311 

a  group  of  pines  off  to  the  left  ;  he  had  been 
too  preoccupied  to  observe  them  as  he  came 
along  the  road, — strangely  enough  too,  for  a 
group  of  trees  is  an  unusual  sight  out  on  the 
prairie.  What  a  lot  of  trees  there  were  in  the 
East  though,  and  how  wofully  he  had  come  to 
grief  among  them  up  there  on  the  North  Shore  ! 
Only  a  year  ago  it  had  happened,  only  a  year 
ago,  in  the  fragrant  New  England  June  !  His 
married  sister  had  had  Dorothy  and  himself 
visiting  her  at  the  same  time.  Well,  Fanny 
had  done  her  best  for  him,  though  it  was  no 
good.  He  wondered,  in  passing,  how  it 
happened  that  a  fellow  could  come  to  care 
more  for  anybody  else  than  for  a  sister  like 
Fanny  ! 

He  had  found  Dorothy  sitting  in  perfect  idle 
ness  under  a  big  pine-tree  that  lovely  June 
morning.  There  were  robins  hopping  about 
the  lawn  ;  the  voices  of  his  sister's  children 
came,  shrill  and  sweet,  calling  to  one  another 
as  they  dug  in  the  garden  by  the  house.  The 
tide  was  coming  in  ;  he  could  hear  it  break 
against  the  rocks  over  yonder,  while  the  far 
stretches  of  sea  glimmered  softly  in  the  sun 
shine.  Dorothy  looked  so  sweet  and  beneficent 
as  she  sat  under  the  big  pine-tree  in  the  summer 
sunshine,  that  all  his  misgivings  vanished. 


312  jpeafc  an£>  fcrafrfe 


Before  he   knew  what   he   was  about  he  had 
' '  asked  her. ' ' 

And  here  the  little  drama  was  blurred  and 
muffled  in  his  memory.  He  wondered,  as  he 
clasped  his  knees  and  studied  the  tops  of  the 
pine-trees,  how  he  had  put  the  question  ; 
whether  he  had  perhaps  put  it  wrong.  He 
could  not  recall  a  word  he  had  said  ;  but  her 
words  in  reply  fell  as  distinct  on  his  ear,  as  the 
note  of  the  meadow-lark,  down  there  by  the 
roadside.  How  the  note  of  the  meadow-lark 
shot  a  thrill  through  the  thin  Colorado  air, — 
informed  with  a  soul  the  dazzling  day  !  How 
cruelly  sweet  Dorothy's  voice  had  been,  as  she 
said  : 

"  No,  Harry,  I  could  n't  !  " 

It  had  made  him  so  angry  that  he  hardly 
knew  how  deep  his  hurt  was. 

' '  You  have  no  right  to  say  no  ! "  he  had 
heard  himself  say. 

He  could  not  remember  whether  that  was 
immediately,  or  after  an  interval  of  discussion. 
She  had  stood  up  and  turned  away,  not  deign 
ing  to  reply.  And  then  the  memory  of  that 
talk  at  the  ball  had  struck  him  like  a  blow. 

"Wait,  Dorothy!  You  must  wait!"  he 
had  cried,  aware  that  his  imperative  words 
clutched  her  like  a  detaining  hand.  Then, 


B  Stroke  in  tbc  <3ame  313 

while  his  breath  came  fast,  almost  chokingly, 
he  had  said  :  "  Tell  me,  Dorothy,  is  it  because 
you  don't  call  me  a  man  that  you  won't  have 
me?" 

The  angry  challenge  in  his  voice  hardened 
her. 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  how  much 
of  a  man  you  are,  Harry  Wakefield,"  she  had 
declared,  with  freezing  indifference.  "  I  only 
know  you  are  not  the  man  for  me." 

That  had  been  practically  the  end  of  it. 
They  had  got  through  the  day  very  creditably 
he  believed,  and  the  next  morning  they  had 
departed  on  their  several  ways. 

Wakefield  had  read  law  like  mad  for  a  week, 
and  then  he  had  started  for  Colorado.  He  had 
a  favorite  cousin  out  there  whose  husband  was 
making  a  fortune  in  Lame  Gulch  stocks,  and 
he  thought  that  even  prosaic  fortune-hunt 
ing  in  a  new  world  would  be  better  than  the 
gnawing  chagrin  that  monopolized  things  in 
the  old.  Better  be  active  than  passive,  on  any 
terms.  By  the  time  he  was  well  on  his  west 
ward  way,  the  sting  of  that  refusal  had  yielded 
somewhat,  and  he  began  to  take  courage 
again.  Perhaps  when  he  had  made  a  fortune  ! 
"It  takes  a  man  to  do  that,"  she  had  said. 
Well,  he  had  four  times  the  money  to  start  with 


314  f>eafc  and  jprafrie 

that  Dick  Dayton  had    had,    and  look,  what 
chances  there  were  ! 

Once  fairly  launched  in  the  stirring,  out- 
of-door  Colorado  life,  his  spirits  had  so  far 
recovered  their  tone  that  he  could  afford  to 
be  magnanimous.  Accordingly  he  wrote  the 
following  letter  to  Dorothy: 

"  DEAR  DOROTHY, 

"  You  were  right ;  I  was  n't  half  good  enough  for 
you.  No  fellow  is,  as  far  as  that  goes  !  Don't  you  let 
them  fool  you  on  that  score  !  It  makes  me  mad 
when  I  think  about  it.  You  always  knew  the  worst 
of  me,  but  you  don't  really  know  the  first  thing  about 
any  other  man.  I  'm  coming  back  next  year  to  try 
again.  Do  give  me  the  chance,  Dorothy  !  Remember, 
I  don't  tell  you  you  could  make  anything  you  like 
of  me — that's  the  rubbish  the  rest  will  talk.  I'm 
going  to  make  something  of  myself  first !  And  if  I 
don't  do  it  in  a  year,  I  am  ready  to  work  seven 
years,— or  seventy,— or  seventy-seven  years  ;  if  you  '11 
only  have  me  in  the  end  !  That  would  have  to  be  in 
Heaven,  though,  would  n't  it?  Well,  it  would  come 
to  the  same  thing  in  the  end  !  It  would  be  Heaven 
for  me,  wherever  it  was  !  " 

Wakefield  had  the  habit  of  saying  to  Doro 
thy  whatever  came  into  his  head  ;  and  so  he 
had  written  his  letter  without  any  thought  of 
effect.  But  the  answer  he  got  was  so  carefully 
worded  that  he  could  make  nothing  of  it.  At 


B  Stroke  in  tbe  <5ame  315 


the   end   of  three   non-committal    pages    she 
wrote  : 

"  I  ought  not  to  wish  you  good  luck,  for  Papa  says 
if  you  have  it  it  will  be  your  ruin.  I  did  not  suppose 
that  circumstances  could  ruin  anybody,— anybody 
that  had  any  backbone,  I  mean.  But  I  do  wish  you 
good  luck  all  the  same,  and  if  you  're  the  kind  of 
person  to  be  ruined  by  it,  why,  I  'm  sorry  for  you  !  " 

There  was  something  in  that  letter,  non 
committal  as  it  was,  that  gave  Wakefield  the 
impression  that  a  correspondence  would  be  no 
furtherance  to  his  interests.  He  did  not  write 
again,  and  he  only  knew,  from  his  sister  Fan 
ny,  that  Dorothy  was  a  greater  favorite  than 
ever  that  season  ;  a  fact  from  which  he  could 
gather  little  encouragement.  He  had  flung 
himself  like  a  piece  of  driftwood  into  the  whirl 
of  speculation  ;  he  had  lost  more  thousands 
than  he  cared  to  think  about,  the  bulk  of 
his  patrimony  in  fact,  and  his  last  chance  was 
gone  of  making  the  fortune  that  was  to  have 
been  the  winning  of  Dorothy.  "It  takes  a 
man  to  do  that  !  ' '  she  had  said. 

Well,  that  was  the.  end  of  it  !  As  far 
as  he  was  concerned,  Dorothy  Ray  had 
ceased  to  exist  ;  the  past  had  ceased  to  exist, 
the  pleasant  past,  with  its  deceitful  mists  and 
bewildering  sunbeams.  Things  out  here  were 


316  peak  anfc  prairie 


crude,  but  they  were  real !  He  got  on  his  feet 
and  turned  about  once  more.  Between  Mt. 
Washington  and  the  range  was  a  fertile  ranch  ; 
broad  fields  of  vivid  alfalfa,  big  barns,  pastures 
dotted  with  cattle  ;  a  line  of  light-green  cotton- 
woods  ran  along  the  borders  of  the  creek. 
What  was  that  about  the  wilderness  blossom 
ing  like  the  rose  ?  He  turned  again  and  looked 
toward  the  barren  hillocks.  Even  they,  dead 
and  inhospitable  as  they  appeared  at  a  little 
distance,  afforded  nourishment  for  cactus  and 
painter's-brush,  prickly  poppy  and  hardy 
vetches.  Dorothy  Ray  might  do  as  she 
pleased, — his  fortune  might  go  where  it  would  ! 
That  need  not  be  the  end  of  all  things.  Life, 
to  be  sure,  might  seem  a  little  like  a  game  of 
chess  after  the  loss  of  the  Queen  !  Pretty  tough 
work  it  was  likely  to  be  to  save  the  game,  but 
none  the  less  worth  while  for  all  that.  He 
wondered  what  his  next  move  would  be, — and 
meanwhile,  before  recommencing  the  game, 
why  not  seize  the  most  obvious  outlet  for  his 
newly  roused  energies,  by  tearing  down  the 
hill  at  a  break-neck  gallop  and  clearing  the 
wire  fence  at  a  bound  ! 

'  Took  you  for  a  jack-rabbit !  "  said  a  gruff 
voice  close  at  hand,  as  he  landed  on  his  two 
feet  by  the  dusty  roadside. 


Stroke  in  tbe  (Same  317 


"  Not  a  bad  thing  to  be,"  Wakefield  panted, 
falling  in  step  with  the  speaker,  who  was  walk 
ing  toward  the  town  at  a  brisk  pace. 

"  Not  unless  the  dogs  are  round,"  the  stran 
ger  demurred. 

"Dogs!  A  jack-rabbit  would  never  know 
how  game  he  was,  if  it  wasn't  for  the  dogs  i  " 

' '  Any  on  your  track  ?  ' '  asked  the  man  with 
a  grin.  "  Booked  like  it  when  you  come  wal- 
luping  down  the  mounting  !  " 

"A  whole  pack  of  them,"  Wakefield  an 
swered.  ' '  Did  n't  you  see  anything  of  them  ?  ' ' 

"Can't  say  I  did." 

"  You  're  not  so  smart  as  you  look,  then  ;  " 
and  they  went  jogging  on  like  comrades  of  a 
year's  standing. 

The  new  acquaintance  appeared  to  be  a  man 
of  sixty  or  thereabouts.  A  crowbar  and  shovel 
which  he  carried 'over  his  shoulder  seemed  a 
part  of  his  rough  laborer's  costume.  He  had 
a  shrewd,  good  sort  of  face,  and  a  Yankee 
twang  to  his  speech. 

"  You  carry  those  things  as  easy  as  a  walk 
ing-stick,  ' '  Wakefield  observed,  ready  to  recip 
rocate  in  point  of  compliments.  ' '  What  do 
you  use  them  for  ?  ' ' 

"  Ben  mendin'  the  bit  o'  codderoy  down  yon 
der,"  was  the  answer. 


318  {peak  anO  prairie 

' '  Is  that  your  trade  ?  ' ' 

"No,  not  particularly.  I  make  a  trade  of 
most  anything  I  kin  work  at.  Happened  to 
be  out  of  a  job  last  week,  so  I  took  up  with 
this." 

' '  Got  through  with  it  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  stopped  off  to-day.  Got  done  just 
in  time.  They  start  in  on  the  road  next  week, 
'n  they  've  took  me  on." 

"What  road's  that?" 

"The  new  branch  in." 

' '  Oh  !  In  to  L,ame  Gulch.  I  heard  they 
were  going  to  start  in  on  that." 

"Yes;  the  'Rocky  Mounting'  -are  doin' 
it.  They  say  there  '11  be  trains  runnin'  in 
from  the  Divide  inside  of  six  months." 

Wakefield  looked  sceptical  ;  he  had  heard 
that  sort  of  talk  before. 

"  Do  you  like  railroad  work  ?  "  he  asked. 

"Not  so  well's  this.  I  like  my  own  job 
better,  only  'taint  so  stayirf.  Might  've  had 
another  month's  work,  on  the  road  to  the  canon 
over  there  ;  but  that  would  ha'  ben  the  end 
on  't.  So  I  'm  goin'  to  throw  up  that  job  this 
afternoon." 

"  What  's  wanted  on  the  canon  road  ? " 

"Wai,  it  wants  widenin',  an'  it  wants 
bracin'  up  here  '11  there,  'n  there  's  a  power 
of  big  stuns  to  be  weeded  out.  A  reel  purty 


Stroke  in  tbe  (Same  319 


job  it  's  goin'  to  be,  too,  in  there  by  the 
runnin'  water,  among  the  fars  'n  the  birds  'n 
the  squirrels." 

' '  I  suppose  you  could  hardly  have  managed 
that  all  by  yourself?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  !     It 's  an  easy  job." 

"  And  you  think  you  could  have  done  it  with 
just  your  two  hands  and  a  shovel  and  a  crow 
bar?" 

"  Wai,  yes, — 'n  a  pinch  o'  powder  now  and 
then,  'n  somethin'  to  drill  a  hole  with, — an'  a 
little  nat'ral  gumption." 

Wakefield  liked  the  sound  of  it  all  uncom 
monly  well.  For  a  man  who  had  come  to  a 
rough  place  in  his  own  road, — ajumping-off 
place  he  had  once  thought  it  might  prove  to 
be, — would  it  not  be  rather  a  pleasant  thing, 
to  smooth  off  a  road  for  the  general  public  ? 
It  would  be  a  stroke  in  the  game,  at  least,  and 
that  was  his  main  concern  just  now.  Such  a 
good,  downright,  genuine  sort  of  work  too  ! 
He  had  an  idea  that  if  he  could  once  get  his 
grip  on  a  crowbar,  and  feel  a  big  rock  come  off 
its  bottom  at  his  instigation,  he  should  have  a 
stirring  of  self-respect.  After  all,  of  all  that 
he  had  lost,  that  was  perhaps  the  most  impor 
tant  thing  to  get  back. 

Just  as  he  had  arrived  at  this  sensible  con 
clusion  his  companion  came  to  a  halt. 


320  jpeafc  and  prairie 


"Here  's  my  shanty  ;  where  's  yours  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"Haven't  got  any  !  " 

'I'd  ask  you  in  if  we  was  n't  packin'  up  to 
go." 

' '  Does  your  wife  go  with  you  ?  ' ' 

"Why,  nat'rally  !  " 

"Say,"  Wakefield  queried,  as  the  man 
turned  in  at  the  gate.  "  How  did  you  go  to 
work  to  get  that  job  up  in  the  canon  ?  " 

"Went  to  'Bijah  Lang,  the  street-commis 
sioner.  ' ' 

'  You  have  n't  got  any  friend  who  would 
like  you  to  pass  the  job  over  to  him  ?  " 

"No." 

"Think  I  could  do  it?" 

"Wai,  yes,— if  you  've  got  the  gumption  ! 
Your  arms  and  legs  'pear  to  be  all  right !  Ever 
see  any  work  of  the  kind  ? ' ' 

Yes  ;  I  used  to  watch  them  on  the  road  up 
Bear  Mountain,  at  Lame  Gulch." 

"  Know  how  to  drill  a  hole  in  a  rock  ?  " 

"  Learned  that  when  I  was  a  boy." 

"  Know  the  difference  between  joint  powder 
and  the  black  stuff?" 

:'  Yes  ;  though  I  never  handled  giant  powder 
myself. ' ' 

"Wai,  don't  be  too  free  with  it,  that 's  all. 


B  Stroke  in  tbe  <3ame  321 


And,  say  !  "  he  called,  as  Wakefield  in  his  turn 
made  as  if  to  go.  "  Book's  like  as  though 
you  'd  got  somethin'  up  to  Lame  Gulch.  Wai, 
you  hold  on  to  it,  that 's  all  !  " 

"  You  believe  in  Lame  Gulch,  then  ?  " 

"Lame  Gulch  is  all  right.  It's  chockfull 
of  stuff,  now  I  tell  ye  !  Only  folks  thought 
they  was  goin'  to  fish  it  out  with  a  rod  'n  line." 

"  Then  you  really  think  there  's  something 
in  it?" 

"  Somethin'  in  it  ?  I  tell  ye,  it  's  chockfull 
o'  stuff !  Only  folks  have  got  it  into  their 
heads  that  the  one  thing  in  this  world  they  kin 
git  without  workin'  for  it,  is  gold !  If  that 
was  so,  what  would  it  be  wuth?  Less  than 
pig-iron  !  I  tell  ye,  there  ain't  nothin'  in  this 
world  that 's  to  be  got  without  workin'  for  it, 
'n  the  more  work  it  takes,  the  more  it 's  wuth  ! 
'N  the  reason  gold  's  wuth  more  'n  most  things, 
is  because  it  takes  more  work  'n  most  things  ; 
more  diggin'  'n  more  calc' latin'.  Why  !  "  he 
went  on,  waxing  more  and  more  emphatic. 
"  Ef  diggin'  gold  wa'  n't  no  harder  'n  mendin1 
roads,  't  would  n't  pay  any  better, — now  I  tell 
ye  !  " 

''Perhaps  you 're  right,"  Wakefield  ad 
mitted,  "  but  that  's  not  what  we  're  brought 
up  to  think." 


322  jpeafc  anD  prairie 


"  That 's  what  my  boys  was  brought  up  to 
think,  'n  they 're  actin'  accordin'." 

"  Have  you  got  some  boys  up  at  Lame 
Gulch?" 

"Yes,  four  on  'em.  'N  I  've  got  a  claim 
up  there  too,  'n  they  're  workin'  it." 

"  Why  don't  you  go  up  and  work  your  claim 
yourself?"  asked  Wakefield. 

A  humorous  twinkle  came  into  the  man's 
eyes. 

"Wai,  now  I  tell  ye!"  and  his  voice 
dropped  to  a  confidential  level.  "  Railroadin' 
pays  better,  so  far  !  " 

"Do  your  boys  get  a  living  out  of  the 
mine  ? ' ' 

"Not  yet,  not  yet.  But  they're  skilled 
miners.  'N  when  they  git  hard  up,  a  couple 
on  'em  put  in  a  month's  work  for  some  skal- 
liwag  '  company  '  or  other,  'n  so  they  keep 
agoin'.  The  three  married  ones  ain't  up  there 
at  all." 

' '  So  you  '  ve  got  seven  sons  ? ' ' 

' '  Yes  ;  seven  boys,  all  told.  We  lost  a  girl," 
he  added,  with  an  indefinable  change  in  his 
voice.  "  Her  name  was  Loretty." 

With  that,  Loretty's  father  passed  up  the 
path  and  disappeared  within  the  house. 

"  Nice  old  chap,"  Wakefield  thought,  as  he 


B  Stroke  In  tbe  <3ame  323 


walked  on,  past  the  little  hcmses  with  the  pre 
sumable  mortgages  on  them.  ' '  Nice  of  him  to 
go  on  caring  for  L,oretty  after  he  had  lost  her." 

He  wondered  whether,  after  all,  he  had  better 
make  such  a  point  of  forgetting  about  Dorothy  ! 
Up  there  on  the  red  hilltop,  hobnobbing  with 
the  yellow  cactus,  he  had  resolved  never  to 
think  of  her  again  ;  but  down  here  among 
human  habitations,  fresh  from  the  good  hu 
man  intercourse  of  the  last  ten  minutes,  he 
did  not  feel  so  sure  about  it.  He  thought  that, 
on  the  whole,  it  might  be  as  well  to  decide  that 
question  later.  Meanwhile,  here  was  the  street- 
commissioner's  door,  and  here  was  a  decision 
that  must  be  come  to  on  the  spot. 

Harry  Wakefield  always  looked  back  upon 
the  day  when  he  first  pried  a  big  rock  off  its 
base,  as  a  turning-point  in  his  career  ;  a  move 
that  put  the  game  in  his  own  hands.  The  sen 
sation  was  different  from  what  he  had  antici 
pated.  He  had  fancied  that  he  was  about  to  en 
gage  in  a  single-handed  struggle,  but  no  sooner 
had  his  grip  closed  upon  the  crowbar,  no  sooner 
had  he  felt  the  mass  of  rock  yield  to  its  press 
ure,  than  he  found  that  he  was  not  working 
single-handed.  On  the  contrary,  he  had  the 
feeling  of  having  got  right  down  among  the 
forces  of  nature  and  of  finding  them  ranged  on 


324  peak  anfc  prairie 

his  side.  It  was  gravitation  that  gave  the  rock 
its  weight,  but,  look  there  !  how  some  other 
law,  which  he  did  not  know  the  name  of, 
dwelt  in  the  resisting  strength  of  the  iron, 
worked  in  the  action  of  his  muscles.  His  legs 
trembled,  as  he  braced  himself  to  the  effort ; 
the  veins  of  his  neck  throbbed  hard  ;  but  the 
muscles  of  his  arms  and  chest  held  firm  as  the 
crowbar  they  guided,  and  slowly,  reluctantly, 
sullenly,  the  rock  went  over  on  its  side.  He 
dropped  the  crowbar  from  his  stiffening  grasp 
and  drew  himself  up,  flinging  his  shoulders 
back  and  panting  deep  and  strong. 

It  was  bet  ween  six  and  seven  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  a  radiant  June  morning,  which 
seemed  alive  with  pleasant  things.  As  he 
stood  with  his  head  thrown  back,  taking  a  good 
draught  of  the  delicious  mountain  air,  a  blue 
bird  shot,  like  a  bit  of  the  sky,  in  and  out 
among  the  solemn  pines  and  delicate  aspens. 
He  looked  down  on  the  tangle  of  blossoming 
vines  and  bushes  that  latticed  the  borders  of 
the  brook,  which  came  dashing  down  from  the 
canon,  still  rioting  on  its  way.  The  water 
would  soon  have  another  cause  for  clamor,  in 
the  big  stone  that  had  so  long  cumbered  the 
road.  He  should  presently  have  the  fun  of 
rolling  it  over  the  bank  and  seeing  it  settle  with 


Stroke  in  tbe  <3ame  325 


a  splash  in  the  bed  of  the  stream  where  it  be 
longed  by  rights.  After  that  there  was  a  fallen 
tree  to  be  tackled,  a  couple  of  rods  farther  on, 
and  then  he  should  take  a  rest  with  his  shovel 
and  fill  in  some  holes  near  by. 

He  had  found  a  deserted  lean-to,  half  way 
up  the  canon,  where  he  had  arranged  to  camp 
while  the  work  went  on.  As  he  thought  of 
Chittenden  and  Allery  Jones  and  the  rest, 
cooped  up  there  in  the  town,  still  anxiously 
watching  the  fluctuations  of  the  stock-market, 
he  was  filled  with  compassion  for  them,  and  he 
determined  to  have  them  out  now  and  then  and 
give  them  a  camp  stew. 

Of  course  the  exultation  of  that  first  hour's 
work  did  not  last.  Before  the  day  was  out, 
Wakefield  had  found  out  what  he  was  ' '  in 
for."  An  aching  back  and  blistered  hands 
were  providing  him  with  sensations  of  a  less 
exhilarating  order  than  those  of  the  early 
morning.  At  one  time,  soon  after  his  "  noon 
ing  "  as  he  liked  to  call  it,  the  sun  blazed  so 
fiercely  that  he  had  ignominiously  fled  before 
it  and  taken  refuge  for  an  hour  or  more  among 
the  trees.  That  was  the  episode  which  he  least 
liked  to  remember.  He  did  not  quite  see  why 
mending  a  road  in  the  sun  should  be  so  much 
more  dangerous  than  playing  polo  at  high 


326  fteafc  ant>  prairie 


noon,  but,  somehow,  it  hurt  more  ;  and  he 
recollected  that  his  late  father,  who  was  a 
physician,  had  once  told  him  that  pain  was 
Nature's  warning.  Having,  then,  entered  into 
a  close  alliance  with  Nature,  he  thought  it 
well  to  take  her  hints. 

Before  many  days  his  apprenticeship  was 
over  and  he  was  working  like  a  born  day- 
laborer.  After  the  first  week  he  was  well  rid 
of  aches  and  pains  ;  the  muscles  of  his  back 
were  strengthened,  the  palms  of  his  hands 
were  hardened,  his  skull,  he  thought  to  him 
self,  must  have  thickened.  In  all  things,  too, 
he  was  tuned  to  a  lower  key.  But  if  the 
exhilaration  of  that  first  morning  was  gone,  it 
had  only  given  place  to  something  better ; 
namely,  a  solid  sense  of  satisfaction.  He  knew 
it  was  all  an  episode,  this  form  of  work  at 
least;  he  knew  that  when  his  "job"  was 
done  he  should  go  back  into  the  world  and 
take  up  the  life  he  had  once  made  a  failure  of  ; 
but  he  knew  also  that  he  should  not  fail  again. 
A  sense  of  power  had  come  into  him  ;  he  had 
made  friends  with  work  for  its  own  sake.  He 
believed  that  his  brain  was  as  good  as  his 
muscles,  that  it  would  respond  as  readily  to  the 
demands  he  should  put  upon  it.  And  he  had 
learned  to  be  strenuous  with  himself. 


B  Stroke  in  tbe  (Same  327 


Wakefield  was  in  correspondence  with  a 
friend  in  San  Francisco  who  wanted  him  to 
come  out  there  and  practise  law.  He  decided, 
rather  suddenly,  to  do  so,  coming  to  his  de 
cision  the  day  after  he  was  told  that  Dorothy 
Ray  was  engaged  to  be  married. 

It  was  Dick  Dayton  who  brought  him  the 
news.  As  he  listened,  he  felt  something  as 
he  did  that  first  day  in  the  canon  when  the 
sun  got  too  strong  for  him.  He  thought, 
after  Dayton  left  him,  that  he  should  have 
given  up  the  game  then  and  there,  if  it  had 
not  been  for  some  blasting  he  was  to  do  in  the 
morning.  The  holes  were  all  drilled,  and  it 
would  be  a  day's  job  to  clear  away  the  pieces 
and  straighten  things  out  at  that  point.  He 
should  hate  to  have  another  man  go  on  with 
the  job.  They  might  cut  him  out  with  Doro 
thy, — that  was  sure  to  come,  sooner  or  later, — 
but,  by  the  Great  Horn  Spoon  !  they  should 
not  get  his  job  away  from  him  ! 

It  was  not  until  he  had  turned  in  for  the 
night  that  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  had  not 
asked  whom  Dorothy  was  engaged  to.  What 
did  he  care,  any  way  ?  he  said  to  himself.  He 
had  gambled  away  his  chances  long  ago.  Yet, 
Good  Heavens,  how  dear  she  was  !  As  he  lay 
on  the  ground,  outside  the  little  lean-to,  .star- 


328  peak  anfc  prairie 


ing  up  at  the  stars  that  glittered  in  the  thin 
air  with  what  is  called,  at  lower  altitudes,  a 
frosty  brilliance,  he  seemed  to  see  her  before 
him  more  plainly  than  he  had  ever  done  in  the 
old  days  when  they  had  stood  face  to  face. 
He  had  been  too  self-absorbed,  too  blinded  and 
bewildered  with  the  urgency  of  his  own  case, 
to  see  her  as  she  really  was.  He  remem 
bered  now, — something  that  he  had  never 
thought  about  before, — the  little  toss  of  her 
hair,  up  from  her  forehead,  which  was  different 
from  the  way  other  girls  wore  their  hair.  It 
made  a  little  billow  there,  that  was  like  her  free 
spirit.  Yes,  she  had  always  had  a  free  spirit. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  claim  of  ownership  he  had 
made,  which  had  repelled  her  so  strongly.  As 
well  set  up  a  claim  of  ownership  over  those 
stars  up  there  ! 

He  tried  to  hope  that  the  other  fellow  was 
man  enough  to  deserve  her  ;  but  that  was  be 
yond  his  magnanimity.  The  only  way  to  bear 
it,  for  the  present  at  least,  was  to  leave  the 
"  other  fellow  "  out  of  the  question.  He  was 
glad  he  did  not  know  his  name.  And  all 
night  long,  as  he  watched  the  stars,  their  slow, 
imperceptible  progress  marked  only  by  the 
intervening  tree-twigs,  Dorothy's  face  was 
fairly  visible  to  him,  her  voice  came  to  him 


B  Stroke  in  tbe  <3ame  329 


distinct  as  an  echo ;  her  sweet,  free  nature 
unfolded  itself  to  his  awakened  consciousness. 
Since  then  he  had  worked  as  if  his  life  had 
depended  upon  it,  and  now,  after  those  ten 
days  of  fierce  labor,  his  "job"  was  almost 
done.  He  had  worked  his  way  well  up  into 
the  canon,  quite  to  the  end  of  the  distance  con 
tracted  for.  A  few  days  more  would  complete 
the  job.  He  thought,  with  a  pang  of  regret, 
that  his  lines  would  never  again  fall  in  such 
glorious  places.  He  knew  the  canon  by  heart ; 
he  had  seen  it  in  every  phase  of  its  summer 
beauty,  by  day  and  by  night,  in  sunshine  and 
in  storm,  and  now  the  autumn  had  come  and 
the  sensitive  green  of  the  aspens  had  turned  to 
yellow.  They  gleamed  along  the  brook-side  ; 
they  showed  like  an  outcrop  of  gold  on  the 
wall  of  rock  over  there,  and  in  among  the  blue- 
green  pines  ;  their  yellow  leaves  strewed  the 
ground  on  which  he  stood.  It  was  eight  o' clock 
in  the  morning,  and  he  was  about  to  do  his 
last  blasting.  There  was  nobody  up  the  canon, 
and  nobody  was  likely  to  come  from  below  for 
an  hour  yet.  The  big  boulder  was  not  to 
thrust  itself  into  the  road  any  more  ;  another 
minute,  and  all  that  protruding  side  of  it  would 
be  blown  off  and  there  would  be  room  for  two 
teams  to  pass  each  other.  Hark  !  Was  not 


330  peak  and  prairie 


that  a  horse's  hoofs  down  below?  He  was 
already  in  the  act  of  ' '  touching  her  off, ' '  hold 
ing  the  lighted  match  in  the  hollow  of  his  two 
hands.  As  he  turned  his  head  to  listen,  the 
fuse  ignited  with  a  sharp  spit  /  scorching  and 
blackening  the  palms  of  his  hands,  and  causing 
him  to  jump  as  violently  as  he  used  to  do  before 
his  nerves  were  trained  to  the  business.  Some 
what  disgusted  with  his  want  of  nerve,  he 
picked  up  his  tools  in  a  particularly  leisurely 
manner,  and  deposited  them  at  a  safe  distance 
from  the  coming  crash.  Then,  to  make  up 
for  this  bit  of  bravado,  he  ran  swiftly  down  the 
road,— "walluped  "  he  said  to  himself,  think 
ing  of  Loretty's  father,— and  when  he  espied 
the  horse,  he  shouted  and  waved  his  arms  in 
warning. 

The  horse  stopped,  and  Wakefield  slackened 
his  pace.  The  moment  he  had  done  so  he 
recognized  the  rider.  He  was  not  conscious 
of  any  surprise  at  seeing  Dorothy  Ray  riding, 
all  by  herself,  up  the  canon.  He  did  not  pause 
to  question  as  to  how  she  got  there,  to  wonder 
what  she  would  think  of  him,  turned  day- 
laborer.  He  felt  nothing  but  an  absolute  con 
tent  and  satisfaction  in  having  her  there  before 
him  ;  it  seemed  so  natural  and  so  right  that  he 
did  not  see  how  it  could  have  been  otherwise  ! 


B  Stroke  in  tbe  (Same  331 

He  strode  down  the  road  to  where  she  stood, 
and  as  she  dropped  the  bridle  and  held  out 
both  hands  to  him,  he  flung  his  old  hat  away 
and  .  clasped  them  in  his  powder-blackened 

palms. 

"  O  Harry  !  "  she  cried  with  a  joyful  ring  in 
her  voice  ;  "  I  never  was  so  glad  to  see  any 
body  in  my  life  !  ' ' 

He  did  not  say  one  word,  but  as  he  stood 
there,  bareheaded,  there  was  a  look  in  his 
face  that  gave  her  pause.  Had  she  been  too 
forward  ?  Was  he  so  changed  ?  She  drew  her 
hands  away,  and  taking  up  the  bridle,  looked 
uncertainly  from  side  to  side. 

"Aren't  we  friends  any  more,  Harry? 
Aren't  you  glad  to  see  me?"  she  asked. 
Her  voice  was  unsteady  like  her  look.  He 
had  never  seen  her  like  this. 

"Glad  to  see  you,  Dorothy?"  he  cried. 
"You  seem  like  an  angel  straight  from  Hea 
ven,  only  a  hundred  thousand  million  times 
better!" 

A  sudden  explosion  boomed  out,  putting  a 
period  to  this  emphatic  declaration.  Wake- 
field  seized  the  rein  of  the  startled  horse,  that 
sprang  shivering  to  one  side  ;  but  Dorothy  only 
said,  quite  composedly  :  "  I  suppose  you  were 
blasting  up  there.  Will  there  be  another  ? ' ' 


332  fteafc  an& 


(<  No  ;  but  how  did  you  know  it  was  I  ?  " 
"Why,    I    knew    all    about   it,    of    course. 
Fanny  told  me,  and  Mrs.  Dick  Dayton  wrote 
home,  and, — well,  I  knew  about  it  a  great  deal 
better  than  anybody  else  !  ' ' 

' '  And  you  knew  I  was  up  here  ? ' ' 
' '  Of  course  I  did  !     Why,  else,  should  I  have 
come  up  at  daybreak  ?  "  *  • 

"But,  Dorothy,"  Wakefield  persisted,  de 
termined  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it  at  the 
outset.  "  Did  you  know  I  had  made  a  fizzle 
of  everything  out  here?" 

"I  knew  you  had  lost  your  money,"  she 
replied,  with  an  air  of  misprizing  such  sordid 
considerations.  "And  Fanny  told  me  you 
were  going  to  California,  and, — I  just  thought 
I  would  come  out  with  the  Dennimans  !  "  she 
added  irrelevantly. 

He  was  walking  beside  her  horse  up  the 
broad  clean  road  he  had  once  taken  such  pride 
in  ; — ages  ago  he  thought  it  must  have  been. 
On  either  hand,  the  solemn  cliffs,  familiars  of 
the  past  three  months,  stood  decked  with 
gleaming  bits  of  color  ;  the  brook  went  career 
ing  in  their  shadow,  calling  and  crooning  its 
little  tale.  What  was  that  over  yonder  under 
the  big  pine-tree  ?  Only  a  pair  of  bright  eyes, 
that  twinkled  curiously,  then  vanished  in  a 


Stroke  in  tbe  (Same  333 


whisking  bit  of  fur  !  On  a  sudden  he  had  be 
come  estranged  and  disassociated  from  these 
intimate  surroundings,  these  sights  and  sounds 
which  had  so  long  been  his  companions. 
What  had  they  to  do  with  Dorothy  ! 

She  was  telling  him  of  her  journey  out  and 
of  the  friends  she  was  travelling  with.  She 
would  have  given  him  the  home  news,  but, 
"  Don't  talk  about  anybody  but  yourself, 
Dorothy,"  he  said.  ''That  's  all  that  I  care 
about!  " 

At  last  they  stood  fronting  the  big  boulder, 
whose  side  had  been  blasted  off.  Dorothy 
looked  at  the  fragments  of  stone  strewing  the 
road,  and  at  the  massive  granite  surface,  now 
withdrawn  among  the  pine-trees.  One  huge 
branch,  broken  by  a  flying  rock,  hung  down 
across  its  face.  The  whole  scene  told  of  the 
play  of  tremendous  forces,  and  Wakefield's 
was  the  hand  that  had  controlled  and  directed 
them.  Obedient  to  long  habit,  he  stooped,  and 
lifting  a  good-sized  fragment,  sent  it  crashing 
down  the  bank  into  the  brook. 

"  How  strong  you  are,  Harry  !  "  she  said. 

There  was  something  in  the  way  she  said  it, 
that  made  him  feel  that  he  must  break  the 
spell,  then  and  there,  or  he  should  be  playing 
the  mischief  with  his  own  peace  of  mind,  Yet 


334  ipeafc  and  prairie 


he  was  conscious  of  a  strange  absence  of  con 
viction,  as  he  asked  abruptly  :  ' '  Dorothy,  whom 
are  you  going  to  marry  ?  ' ' 

So  he  had  heard  that  foolish  gossip,  and 
that  was  why  there  was  that  look  in  his 
face  ! 

She  was  too  generous  to  think  of  herself,  too 
sure,  indeed,  of  him  and  of  herself,  to  weigh 
her  words.  With  the  little,  half-defiant  toss 
of  the  head  he  knew  so  well,  yet  gathering  up 
the  reins  as  if  for  instant  flight,  she  said  : 

1 '  I  should  think  that  was  for  you  to  say, 
Harry!" 


XII. 

THE    BLIZZARD    PICNIC. 

AH,  there,  Mr.  Burns  !     Glad  to  see  you  ! 
This   is   what   we    call    real    Colorado 
weather  ! ' ' 

The  speaker,  a  mercurial  youth  of  two  and 
twenty,  was  one  of  a  group  of  young  people 
assembled,  some  on  horseback,  some  in  yellow 
buckboards,  in  front  of  a  stately  Springtown 
mansion. 

"Nothing  conceited  about  us!"  a  girlish 
voice  retorted.  ' '  I  am  sure  you  understand  by 
this  time,  Mr.  Burns,  that  Colorado  is  a  syno 
nym  for  perfection." 

The  new-comer  laughed  appreciatively  as  he 
drew  rein  close  beside  the  girl,  who  sat  her 
part-thoroughbred  with  the  ease  and  grace  of 
life-long  habit. 

"  I  had  learned  my  lesson  pretty  well  before 
I  came  out,  thanks  to  you,"  the  young  man 
answered,  in  a  tone  that  was  a  trifle  over-sig 
nificant. 

335 


336  peak  anfc  prairie 


The  girl  flushed,  whether  from  pleasure  or  an 
noyance,  it  was  impossible  for  the  looker-on  to 
decide.  The  looker-on — and  his  name,  as  usual, 
was  legion, — had  found  no  lack  of  occupation 
since  the  arrival  on  the  field,  some  two  weeks 
previous,  of  the  Rev.  Stephen  Burns.  Although 
the  young  minister  was  staying  at  the  hotel, 
like  any  other  chance  tourist,  there  could  be  no 
question  as  to  the  object  of  his  visit,  for  he 
passed  most  of  his  waking  hours,  either  under 
Dr.  Lovejoy's  roof,  or  in  the  society  of  the  doc 
tor's  daughter.  The  fact  that  Amy  Lovejoy 
tolerated  such  assiduous  attendance  boded  ill 
for  Springtown,  yet  so  cheerful  is  the  atmos 
phere  of  the  sunny-hearted  little  community, 
that  foregone  conclusions  of  an  unwelcome 
character  carry  but  scant  conviction  to  its 
mind.  Springtown  could  not  spare  Amy  Love- 
joy,  therefore  Springtown  would  not  be  called 
upon  to  do  so. 

By  this  time  the  group  was  twenty  strong, 
a  truly  gala  assemblage,  which  might  have 
blocked  the  way  on  a  less  generous  thorough 
fare.  On  the  broad  expanse  of  Western  Avenue, 
however,  no  picnic  party,  however  numerous, 
was  likely  to  interfere  with  traffic. 

They  were  all  young  people,  the  chaperone 
of  the  occasion,  a  bride  of  twenty,  looking,  as 


Cbe  J6lf33arD  picnic  337 


she  was,  one  of  the  very  youngest.  The  bril 
liant  February  day  gleamed  like  a  jewel  upon 
the  proud  and  grateful  earth.  The  sky  was 
one  glorious  arch  of  tingling  blue,  beneath 
which  the  snowy  peaks  shone  with  a  joyful 
glitter.  The  air  had  the  keen,  dry  sparkle  that 
is  sometimes  compared  to  champagne,  greatly 
to  the  advantage  of  that  pleasant  beverage.  In 
short,  it  was  a  real  Colorado  day,  and  these 
young  people  were  off  on  a  real  Colorado 
picnic.  How  exceptionally  characteristic  the 
occasion  might  prove  to  be,  no  one  suspected, 
simply  because  no  one  payed  sufficient  heed  to 
a  shred  of  gray  vapor  that  hovered  on  the 
brow  of  the  Peak.  Amy  Lovejoy,  to  be  sure, 
remarked  that  there  would  be  wind  before 
night,  and  another  old  resident  driving  by, 
waved  his  hat  toward  the  Peak,  and  cried, 
' '  Look  out  for  hurricanes  !  ' '  But  no  one  was 
the  wiser  for  that. 

The  last  packages  of  good  things,  the  last 
overcoat  and  extra  wrap,  were  stowed  away 
under  the  seats  of  the  yellow  buckboards  ;  the 
mercurial  youth,  Jack  Hersey  by  name,  had 
cried,  for  the  last  time,  "  Are  we  ready,— say, 
are  we  ready?"  Elliot  Chittenden's  restive 
bronco,  known  as  "my  nag,"  had^cut  its  last 
impatient  caper  ;  and  off  they  started,  a  gay 


338  fieafc  an£>  prairie 


holiday  throng,  passing  down  the  Avenue  to 
the  tune  of  jingling  harness  and  chattering 
voices  and  ringing  hoofs.  From  a  south  porch 
on  the  one  hand,  and  a  swinging  gate  on  the 
other,  friends  called  a  cheery  greeting  ;  elderly 
people  jogging  past  in  slow  buggies,  met  the 
pleasure-seekers  with  a  benignant  smile  ;  foot- 
passengers  turned  and  waved  their  wide  som 
breros,  and  over  yonder  the  Peak  beamed  upon 
them,  with  never  a  hint  of  warning  ;  for  the 
gray  vapor  hovering  there  was  far  too  slight 
a  film  to  cast  a  shadow  upon  that  broad  and 
radiant  front. 

"  It  makes  one  think  of  the  new  Jerusalem, 
and  the  walls  of  Walhalla,  and  every  sort  of 
brilliant  vision,"  Stephen  Burns  remarked, 
as  his  horse  and  Amy's  cantered  side  by  side, 
a  little  apart  from  the  others. 

"Yes,"  said  Amy,  looking  absently  before 
her  ;  "  I  suppose  it  does. ' '  And  she  wondered, 
as  she  had  done  more  than  once  in  the  past 
two  weeks,  why  she  could  not  enter  more  re- 
sponsively  into  the  spirit  of  his  conversation. 
She  knew,  and  she  would  once  have  considered 
it  a  fact  of  the  first  importance,  that  to  Stephen 
Burns  the  New  Jerusalem  was  not  more  sacred 
than  the  abode  of  the  ancient  gods, — or,  to  be 
more  accurate,  Walhalla  was  not  less  beauti- 


Cbe  JS6li33ar&  picnic  339 

ful  and  real  than  the  sacred  city  of  the  He 
brews.  Each  had  its  own  significance  and 
value  in  his  estimation,  as  a  dream,  an  aspira 
tion  of  the  human  mind. 

It  was  what  seemed  to  Amy  L,ovejoy  the 
originality  and  daring  of  the  young  minister's 
views  of  things  high  and  low,  which  had  at 
first  fascinated  the  girl.  She  had  never  before 
met  with  just  that  type  of  thinker,— indeed 
she  had  never  before  associated  on  equal  terms 
with  any  thinker  of  any  type  whatever  ! — and 
it  was  perhaps  no  wonder  that  she  had  been 
inclined  to  identify  the  priest  with  his  gospel, 
that  she  had  been  ready  to  accept  both  with 
equal  trust.  In  fact,  nothing  but  her  father's 
cautious  reluctance  had  deterred  her  from 
pledging  herself,  four  months  ago,  to  this 
grave-eyed  cavalier,  riding  now  so  confidently 
by  her  side. 

She  was  her  father's  only  child,  and  since  the 
death  of  her  mother,  some  ten  years  previous 
to  this,  she  had  been  called  upon  to  fill  the  im 
portant  position  of  ' '  apple  of  the  eye  "  to  a 
secretly  adoring,  if  somewhat  sarcastic  parent. 

"Your  parson  may  be  all  very  well,"  the 
doctor  had  written,  "  but  if  he  is  worth  having 
he  will  keep  !  He  must  have  the  advantage 
of  extreme  youth,  to  be  taken  with  a  callow 


340  peafc  anfc  prairie 


chick  like  yourself,  but  that  shall  not  injure 
him  in  my  eyes.  Tell  him  to  wait  a  while,  and 
then  come  and  show  himself.  Two  heads  are 
better  than  one  in  most  of  the  exigencies  of 
life,  and  when  he  comes,  you  and  I  can  make 
up  our  minds  about  him  at  our  leisure. ' ' 

The  girl's  mind  had  reverted,  a  propos  of 
nothing,  to  that  concluding  sentence  of  her 
father's  letter,  which  she  had  read  at  the  time 
with  an  indulgent  but  incredulous  smile. 
Presently  she  became  aware  that  her  compan 
ion  was  speaking  again. 

"  It  is  all  one,"  he  was  saying.  "What  we 
see  and  what  w^e  imagine  ;  what  we  aspire  to, 
and  what  has  been  the  aspiration  of  other  men 
in  other  ages.  And  how  good  it  all  is  !  " 

This  he  added  with  a  certain  turn  and  ges 
ture  which  made  the  words  intensely  personal. 
Why  did  they  repel  her  so  strongly,  she  won 
dered,  and  wondering,  she  failed  to  answer. 
Involuntarily  she  had  slackened  her  horse's 
pace,  and  fallen  in  line  with  the  others,  and 
when  Jack  Hersey  rode  up  at  that  moment,  she 
gave  him  a  look  of  welcome  which  had  the 
effect  of  making  him  more  mercurial  than 
ever  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

"I  say,  Amy,"  he  cried;  "isn't  this  a 
dandy  day?"  and  Amy  felt  herself  on  good, 


Gbe  J8Ii33arD  picnic  341 


homely,  familiar  ground,  and  she  answered 
him  with  a  heart  grown  suddenly  light  as  his 
own. 

Stephen  Burns,  meanwhile,  rode  on  beside 
her,  with  no  very  distinct  misgiving  in  his 
mind.  He  had,  to  be  sure,  been  somewhat 
daunted  once  or  twice  before,  by  a  curious,  in 
termittent  asperity  in  her,  which  he  could  not 
quite  account  for.  Yet  why  should  he  expect 
to  account  for  every  changing  mood  in  this 
uniquely  charming  being  ?  Had  he  not  per 
ceived  from  the  beginning  that  she  was  not 
fashioned  quite  after  the  usual  pattern  ? 

They  had  met,  the  previous  autumn,  in  the 
quaint  old  New  England  town  where  his  peo 
ple  lived.  She  had  come  like  a  bit  of  the 
young  West  into  the  staid,  old-fashioned  set 
ting  of  the  place,  and  he  had  rejoiced  in  every 
trait  that  distinguished  her  from  the  conven 
tional  young  lady  of  his  acquaintance.  To 
day,  as  they  rode  side  by  side  toward  the 
broad-bosomed  mountain  to  the  southward,  he 
told  himself  once  more  that  her  nature  was 
like  this  Colorado  atmosphere,  in  its  absolute 
clearness  and  crispness.  Such  an  air, — bracing, 
stinging,  as  it  sometimes  was, — could  never 
turn  really  harsh  and  easterly  ;  neither,  per 
haps,  could  it  ever  take  on  the  soft  languor  of 


342  ifreafc  an£>  jprairtc 

the  summer  sea.  And  Amy  I^ovejoy's  nature 
would  always  have  the  finer,  more  individual 
quality  of  the  high,  pure  altitude  in  which  she 
had  been  reared.  Possibly  Stephen  Burns  had 
yet  something  to  learn  about  that  agreeable 
climate  with  which  he  was  so  ready  to  com 
pare  his  love.  The  weather  had  been  perfect 
since  he  came  to  Colorado.  How  could  he 
suspect  the  meaning  of  a  tiny  wisp  of  vapor 
too  slight  to  cast  a  visible  shadow  ? 

And  Amy  chatted  gaily  on  with  Jack 
Hersey,  as  they  cantered  southward,  while 
Stephen  Burns,  riding  beside  them,  told  him 
self  with  needless  reiteration,  that  he  was 
well  content.  One  reason  for  content  he  cer 
tainly  had  at  that  moment,  for  he  was  a  good 
horseman,  as  an  accomplished  gentleman  is 
bound  to  be,  and  he  was  never  quite  insensi 
ble  to  the  exhilaration  of  that  delicious,  rhyth 
mic  motion. 

The}^  had  passed  through  a  gate  which 
signified  that  the  rolling  acres  of  prairie  on 
either  hand,  the  winding  road  that  lost  itself 
in  the  distance,  the  pine-clad  slope  to  the 
right,  were  all  but  a  part  of  a  great  ranch. 
Herds  of  cattle  were  doubtless  pastured  within 
that  enclosure,  though  nowhere  visible  to  the 
holiday  party  riding  and  driving  over  their 


Gbe  JBU33ar£>  picnic  343 


domain.  Hundreds  of  prairie-dog  holes  dotted 
the  vast  field  on  either  hand,  and  here  and 
there  one  of  the  odd  little  fraternity  scampered 
like  a  ball  of  gray  cotton  across  the  field,  or 
sat  erect  beside  his  hole,  barking  shrilly,  before 
vanishing,  with  a  whisk  of  the  tail,  from 
sight.  Stephen  took  so  kindly  to  the  little 
show,  and  made  such  commonplace  exclama 
tions  of  pleasure,  that  Amy  felt  a  sudden  re 
lieved  compunction  and  smiled  upon  him  very 
graciously. 

"They  are  not  a  bit  like  what  I  expected," 
he  said  ;  "but  they  are  such  self-important, 
conceited  little  chaps  that  you  can't  help  hav 
ing  a  fellow-feeling  with  them  !  ' ' 

"  Hullo  !  There  's  a  give-away  !  "  Jack 
Hersey  shouted  ;  and  he  turned  and  repeated 
the  remark  for  the  benefit  of  a  buckboard  in 
the  rear.  Amy  thought  Jack  very  stupid  and 
silly,  and  in  her  own  heart,  she  promptly 
ranged  herself  on  the  side  of  her  young  min 
ister.  There  was  nothing  subtle  or  elusive 
about  her  changes  of  mood,  and  Stephen  prof 
ited  by  each  relenting.  For  a  few  blissful 
moments,  accordingly,  he  now  basked  in  the 
full  consciousness  of  her  favor. 

They  continued  for  half  an  hour  on  the 
ranch  road,  rising  and  dipping  from  point  to 


344  fteafc  an£>  prairie 


point,  yet  mounting  always  higher  above  the 
great  plain  below.  There  the  prairie  stretched 
away,  a  hundred  miles  to  the  East  and  South, 
with  never  a  lake  nor  a  forest  to  catch  the 
light,  with  not  a  cloud  in  the  sky  to  cast  a 
shadow.  Yet  over  the  broad,  undulating 
expanse  were  lines  and  patches  of  varying 
color,  changing  and  wavering  from  moment  to 
moment,  like  mystic  currents  and  eddies  upon 
a  heaving,  tide-swept  sea.  Amy  watched  her 
companion  furtively,  ready  to  take  umbrage 
at  any  lack  of  proper  appreciation  on  his  part  ; 
for  this  was  what  she  liked  best  in  all  Colorado, 
this  vast,  mysterious  prairie  sea.  Yet  when 
she  saw  by  Stephen's  face  that  the  spell  had 
touched  him  too,  when  she  noted  the  rapt  gaze 
he  sent  forth,  as  he  left  his  horse  to  choose  his 
own  way,  she  felt  annoyed,  unreasoningly, 
perversely  annoyed.  Somehow  his  look  was 
too  rapt,  he  was  taking  it  too  solemnly,  he  was 
too  much  in  earnest  !  She  had  a  longing  to 
touch  up  her  horse  and  gallop  off  to  some  spot 
where  she  might  be  unmolested,  where  she 
might  think  her  own  thoughts  and  receive  her 
own  impressions  without  seeing  them  accent 
uated,  exaggerated  in  another  person.  There 
had  never  been  any  one  before  who  seemed  to 
feel  just  as  she  did  about  that  view,  and  some- 


Cbe  3Bli33ar&  flMcnic  345 

how   she   resented   this   intrusion    upon  what 
seemed  like  her  own  preserve. 

Of  course  there  was  but  one  explanation  of 
all  this  high-strung  sensitiveness  in  a  healthy, 
natural  girl  like  Amy  L,ovejoy.  She  had 
made  a  mistake,  and  she  was  finding  it  out. 
In  those  autumn  days  in  the  little  New  Eng 
land  town,  she  had  fallen  captive  to  an  idea,  a 
theory  of  life,  a  certain  poetical  incentive  and 
aspiration  ;  for  months  she  had  fed  her  imagina 
tion  upon  this  new  experience,  and  suddenly 
Stephen  Burns  had  come,  and  by  his  personal 
presence  asserted  a  personal  claim.  She  had 
been  unconsciously  ignoring  the  personal  ele 
ment  in  their  relation,  which  had,  in  the 
months  of  separation,  become  very  indefinite 
and  unreal  to  her.  She  had  told  her  father 
that  Stephen's  eyes  were  brown,  and  she  found 
that  they  were  blue  ;  she  had  described  him  as 
being  tall,  and  he  had  turned  out  to  be  rather 
below  the  medium  height ;  she  had  forgotten 
what  his  voice  was  like,  and  it  seemed 
oppressively  rich  and  full. 

' '  Better  look  out  for  your  horse,  Mr. 
Burns  !  "  she  said  curtly.  "  He  almost  took  a 
header  a  minute  ago." 

' '  Did  he  ?  "  said  Stephen.  ' '  I  did  not  notice. 
This  is  the  view  you  told  me  about,  is  it  not  ?  " 


346  peafc  anfc  prairie 


"Very  likely,"  she  returned,  with  affected 
indifference.  ' '  We  Colorado  people  always  do 
a  good  deal  of  bragging  when  we  are  in  the 
Kast.  We  wear  all  our  little  descriptions  and 
enthusiasms  threadbare." 

' '  There  was  nothing  threadbare  about  your 
account,"  Stephen  protested.  "  It  was  almost 
as  vivid  as  the  sight  itself." 

"We  take  things  more  naturally  when  we 
get  back  to  them.  Come,  Jack,  let 's  go 
faster!" 

There  was  a  level  stretch  of  road  before  them, 
and  the  two  young  people  were  off  with  a  rush. 
Stephen  knew  that  the  livery  horse  he  rode 
could  never  keep  up  with  them,  even  had  his 
pride  allowed  him  to  follow  uninvited.  He 
had  a  dazed,  hurt  feeling,  which  was  not  more 
than  half  dispelled  when,  a  few  minutes  later 
he  came  up  with  the  truants,  resting  their 
horses  at  the  top  of  a  sudden  dip  in  the  road. 

' '  Who  got  there  first  ?  ' '  called  a  voice  from 
one  of  the  buckboards. 

"Amy,  of  course.  You  don't  suppose 
Cigarette  would  pass  a  lady  !  " 

"Jacky  wouldn't  'cause  he  couldn't!" 
Amy  quoted.  "  Poor  Cigarette,"  she  added, 
descending  to  prose  again,  and  tapping  Ciga 
rette's  no.se  with  the  butt  of  her  riding-crop. 


Cbe  JBlt33ar&  flMcnfc  347 


"  How  he  did  heave  and  pant  when  he  caught 
up  with  us  !  And  Sunbeam  never  turned  a 
hair!" 

"What  made  you  call  him  Sunbeam?" 
Stephen  asked,  with  an  effort  to  appear  undis 
turbed,  as  he  watched  her  stroking  the  glossy 
black  neck. 

"  Because  he  was  n't  yellow,"  she  answered 
shortly  ;  upon  which  somebody  laughed. 

They  picknicked  in  a  sunny  opening  among 
the  scrub-oaks,  on  the  edge  of  a  hollow  through 
which  a  mountain  brook  had  made  its  way. 
There  was  snow  in  the  hollow,  and  a  thin  coat 
ing  of  ice  on  the  brook.  A  few  rods  away,  the 
horses,  relieved  of  their  bridles,  were  enjoying 
their  dinners,  switching  their  sides  with  their 
tails  from  time  to  time,  as  if  the  warm  sun  had 
wakened  recollections  of  summer  flies.  Amy 
sat  on  the  outskirts  of  the  company,  where 
Sunbeam  could  eat  from  her  hand  ;  a  privilege 
he  was  accustomed  to  on  such  occasions.  One 
of  the  men  had  brought  a  camera,  and  he  took 
a  snap-shot  at  the  entire  company,  just  as  they 
had  grouped  themselves  on  the  sunny  slope. 
Amy  and  Sunbeam  were  conspicuous  in  the 
group,  but  when,  some  days  later,  the  plate 
was  developed,  it  was  found  that  Mr.  Stephen 
Burns  did  not  appear  in  the  photograph.  Amy 


348  peak  ant)  ftraitie 


was  the  only  one  not  surprised  at  the  omis 
sion.  He  had  been  sitting  beside  her,  and 
she  was  aware  that  he  leaned  on  his  elbow  and 
got  out  of  sight,  just  as  the  snap-shot  was 
taken.  She  wondered  at  the  time  why  he  did 
so,  but  she  found  that  she  did  not  greatly  care 
to  know  the  reason. 

A  few  minutes  later,  just  as  the  girls  of  the 
party  were  busy  dipping  the  cups  and  spoons 
into  the  edge  of  the  snow, — the  sun  so  hot  on 
their  shoulders  that  they  quite  longed  to  get 
into  the  shade,  Elliot  Chittenden  came  hurry 
ing  back  from  a  short  excursion  out  to  the 
edge  of  the  slope,  to  tell  them  of  a  wicked- 
looking  cloud  in  the  north.  The  brow  of  the 
hill  had  shut  off  the  view  in  that  direction,  the 
faithful  barometer,  the  Peak,  having  long  since 
been  lost  sight  of. 

There  was  a  sudden  hurry  and  commotion, 
for  all  knew  the  menace  of  a  storm  from  the 
north,  and  that  its  coming  is  often  as  swift  as 
it  is  sharp.  No  one  was  better  aware  of  the 
situation  than  Amy. 

"  Put  your  overcoat  on  to  begin  with,"  she 
said  to  Burns  ;  "  and  get  your  horse.  I  '11  see 
to  Sunbeam."  The  bridle  was  already  fast  on 
the  pretty  black  head  as  she  spoke,  but  it  was 
some  time  before  Burns  came  up.  He  had  mis- 


Cbe  JBli33arD  picnic  349 


laid  his  bridle,  and  when  he  found  it  he  fum 
bled  unaccountably.  His  fingers  apparently 
shared  the  agitation  of  his  mind  ;  an  agitation 
which  was  something  new  in  his  experience, 
and  which  made  him  feel  singularly  at  odds 
with  everything,  even  with  impersonal  straps 
and  buckles  !  When  at  last  he  came,  she  put 
her  foot  in  his  hand  and  went  up  like  a  bird  to 
a  perch. 

"  Everybody  has  got  ahead  of  us,"  she  said, 
as  they  put  their  horses  into  a  canter. 

The  sun  was  still  hot  upon  them,  but  down 
below,  the  plains  were  obscured  as  with  a  fog. 

' '  What  is  that  ?  "   he  asked. 

"Adust-storm.  Can  you  make  your  horse 
go  faster  ? ' ' 

"  Not,  and  keep  the  wind  in  him." 

"  Never  mind,  we  shall  do  very  well." 

They  had  come  about  the  brow  of  the  moun 
tain  now,  and  could  see  the  great  black  cloud 
to  the  north.  It  looked  pretty  ugly,  even  to 
Stephen  Burns' s  unaccustomed  eyes. 

"  What  do  you  expect?  "  he  asked,  as  they 
walked  their  horses  down  a  sharp  descent. 

"  It  may  be  only  wind,  but  there  is  likely  to 
be  snow  at  this  season.  If  we  can  only  get 
out  of  the  ranch  we  're  all  right  ;  the  prairie- 
dog  holes  make  it  bad  when  you  can't  see," 


350  peak  an£>  {prairie 


"  Can't  see  ?  "  he  repeated. 

"Yes,"  she  answered  impatiently.  "Of 
course  you  can't  see  in  a  blizzard  !  " 

A  moment  later  a  blinding  cloud  of  sand 
struck  them  with  such  force  that  both  the 
horses  slewed  sharp  about  and  stood  an  instant, 
trembling  with  the  shock.  As  they  turned  to 
the  north  again,  a  few  flakes  of  snow  came 
flying  almost  horizontally  in  their  faces  and 
then — the  storm  came  ! 

Horses  and  riders  bent  their  heads  to  the 
blast,  and  on  they  went.  It  had  suddenly 
grown  bitterly  cold. 

' '  I  wish  you  would  take  my  coat, ' '  said 
Stephen,  fumbling  at  the  buttons  as  he  had 
fumbled  at  the  bridle.  His  teeth  were  chatter 
ing  as  he  spoke. 

"Nonsense!"  Amy  answered  sharply. 
' '  You  '11  feel  this  ten  times  as  much  as  I. " 

The  snow  was  collecting  in  Stephen's  beard, 
freezing  as  it  fell,  and  making  fantastic  shapes 
there  ;  the  top  of  Amy's  hat  was  a  white  cone, 
stiff  and  sharp  as  if  it  were  carved  in  stone. 

They  could  not  see  a  rod  before  them,  but 
they  found  it  easier  to  breathe  now. 

"  Is  n't  it  splendid,  the  way  one  rouses  to 
it!"  Amy  exclaimed.  "I'm  getting  all 
heated  up  from  the  effort  of  breathing  !  " 


3Bli33arD  picnic  351 


There  was  no  answer. 

"Don't  you  like  it?"  she  asked,  taking  a 
look  at  his  set  face. 

' '  Like  it  ?     With  you  out  in  it  !  " 

That  was  all  he  said,  but  Amy  felt  her  cheeks 
tingle  under  the  dash  of  snow  that  clung  to 
them.  The  answer  came  like  a  rude  check  to 
the  exultant  thrill  which  had  prompted  her 
words. 

"  He  doesn't  understand  in  the  least  !  "  she 
thought,  impatiently,  and  it  was  all  she  could 
do  to  refrain  from  spurring  on  her  horse  and 
leaving  him  in  the  lurch  as  she  had  done  once 
before,  that  day.  He  was  faint-hearted,  pusil 
lanimous  !  What  if  it  were  only  for  her  sake 
that  he  feared  ?  All  the  worse  for  him  !  She 
did  not  want  his  solicitude  ;  it  was  an  offence 
to  her  ! 

The  wind  whistled  past  them,  and  the  snow 
beat  in  their  faces  ;  the  shapes  in  his  beard 
grew  more  and  more  fantastic,  the  white  cone 
on  her  hat  grew  taller,  and  then  broke  and 
tumbled  into  her  lap  ;  the  horses  bent  their 
heads,  all  caked  with  snow,  and  cantered 
pluckily  on. 

They  had  passed  the  gate  of  the  ranch,  leav 
ing  it  open  behind  them,  and  now  there  were 
but  a  couple  of  miles  between  them  and  the 


352  peafc  an&  prairie 


town.  The  snow  was  so  blinding  that  they  did 
not  see  a  group  of  buckboards  and  saddle- 
horses  under  a  shed  close  at  hand,  nor  guess 
that  some  of  the  party  had  found  shelter  in  a 
house  near  by.  They  rode  swiftly  on,  gaining 
in  speed  as  they  approached  the  town.  The 
horses  were  very  close  together,  straining,  side 
by  side,  toward  the  goal.  Amy's  right  hand 
lay  upon  her  knee,  the  stiff  fingers  closed  about 
the  riding-crop.  If  she  had  thought  about  it 
at  all,  she  would  have  said  that  her  hand  was 
absolutely  numb.  Suddenly,  with  a  shock, 
she  felt  another  hand  close  upon  it,  while  the 
words,  ' '  my  darling  !  ' '  vibrated  upon  her  ear  ; 
the  voice  was  so  close  that  it  seemed  to  touch 
her  cheek.  She  started  as  if  she  had  been 
stung. 

"Oh,  my  riding-crop!"  she  cried,  letting 
the  handle  slip  from  her  grasp. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  Stephen  gasped,  in  a 
low,  pained  tone.  ' '  If  you  will  wait  an  instant, 
I  will  get  it  for  you  !  ' ' 

He  turned  his  horse  about,  for  they  had 
passed  the  spot  by  several  lengths. 

Sunbeam  stood  for  a  moment,  obedient  to 
his  rider's  hand,  while  Amy  watched  the  storm 
close  in  about  her  departing  cavalier.  As  he 
vanished  from  view,  a  sudden,  overpowering 


Cbe  JSlt33ar&  flMcnfc  353 


impulse  of  flight  seized  her.  Without  daring 
to  think  of  what  she  was  doing,  she  bent  down 
and  whispered  "go!"  in  the  low  sharp  tone 
that  Sunbeam  knew.  He  was  off  like  a  shot. 

"I  don't  care,  I  don't  care/'  the  girl  said  to 
herself,  over  and  over  again,  as  they  bounded 
forward  in  the  teeth  of  the  storm.  "Better 
now  than  later  !  " 

She  wondered  whether  Stephen  would  kill 
his  horse  endeavoring  to  overtake  her ;  she 
wondered  whether  he  would  ever  overtake  her 
again  !  Somehow  it  seemed  to  her  as  if  the 
storm  had  caught  her  up  bodily  and  were  bear 
ing  her  away  from  a  very  perplexing  world. 
After  all,  what  an  amenable,  unexacting  sort 
of  thing  a  blizzard  was  !  How  very  easy  to 
deal  with  !  You  had  only  to  duck  your  head, 
and  screw  up  your  eyes,  and  cleave  your  way 
through  it,  and  on  it  went,  quite  unconcerned 
with  your  moods  and  tenses !  If  Stephen 
Burns  were  only  more  like  that,  she  thought 
to  herself  !  But,  alas  !  poor  Stephen,  with  all 
his  strong  claims  to  affection  and  esteem,  could 
not  assert  the  remotest  kinship  with  the  whist 
ling  winds  and  blinding  snow  which  were  prov 
ing  such  formidable  rivals  ! 

A  narrow  lane  appeared  at  her  right.  Almost 
before  she  was  aware  that  it  was  there,  she  had 
33 


354  ipeafc  anD  jpratrte 


swung  Sunbeam  about ;  in  another  moment 
they  were  standing,  with  two  other  saddle- 
horses,  in  a  little  grove  of  trees,  further  pro 
tected  by  a  small  house  close  at  hand.  It 
seemed  almost  warm  in  that  sheltered  nook. 
Amy  recognized  the  horses  and  knew  that 
Harry  de  L,uce  and  one  of  the  girls  must  have 
taken  refuge  within. 

The  lane  was  a  short  one,  and  she  and  Sun 
beam  stood,  trembling  with  excitement,  until 
they  say  the  shadow  of  a  horse  and  rider  speed 
ing  along  the  road  toward  the  town.  Then 
Amy  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief.  ' '  It  was  all 
nothing  but  a  shadow,"  she  said  to  herself, 
"  and  I  went  and  thought  it  was  real ! ' ' 

She  slid  stiffly  down  from  the  saddle  and 
hobbled  into  the  house,  all  the  exultation  gone 
from  her  bounding  veins.  It  made  her  a  bit 
dizzy  to  think  of  the  rush  of  tumultuous  emo 
tions  which  had  outvied  the  storm  of  the 
elements  but  now.  By  the  time  the  friendly 
hostess  had  established  her  before  the  kitchen 
stove  and  taken  away  her  dripping  hat  and 
coat,  she  felt  too  limp  and  spent  to  answer  the 
eager  questions  that  were  asked. 

"Do  something  for  Sunbeam,"  she  mur 
mured  weakly  to  Harry  de  L,uce,  in  answer  to 
his  ready  offers  of  help. 


Cbe  3Bli33arfc  flMcntc  355 


' '  They  're  going  to  send  out  a  '  bus  with  four 
horses  to  pick  up  the  remnants,"  de  lyiice 
assured  her.  "  If  you  girls  will  go  in  the  '  bus 
I  will  lead  Sunbeam  and  Paddy  home."  And 
somehow  it  seemed  so  pleasant  to  be  taken  care 
of,  just  in  a  group  with  another  girl  and  two 
horses,  that  Amy,  with  a  faint,  assenting  smile, 
submitted  to  be  classed  with  the  "remnants." 

She  felt  as  if  she  were  half  asleep  when,  an 
hour  or  more  later,  she  sat  in  the  corner  of  the 
great  omnibus,  that  went  lurching  along 
through  the  snow,  like  a  mudscow  gone  astray 
among  ocean  waves.  She  had  an  idea  that 
everybody  was  talking  at  once,  but  that  was 
just  as  well,  since  not  a  syllable  was  audible 
above  the  creaking  and  rattling  of  the  big  ark. 

Arrived  at  home  she  found  the  riding-crop, 
but  no  Stephen.  He  had  called  an  hour  ago, 
to  ask  if  she  had  arrived  safely,  but  he  had 
said  nothing  about  coming  again. 

"If  he  has  an  atom  of  spirit  he  will  never 
come  near  me  again,"  Amy  thought  to  herself. 
And  then;  "Oh,  that  dear  blizzard!"  she 
exclaimed  under  her  breath. 

Sunbeam,  she  learned,  had  arrived  before 
her.  Thomas  Jefferson ,  the  black  stable-man, 
reported  him  as  partaking  of  a  sumptuous  sup 
per  with  unimpaired  relish.  The  thought  of 


356  jpeafc  anfc  prairie 


her  favorite,  crunching  his  feed  in  the  stall 
close  at  hand,  gave  her  a  sense  of  companion 
ship  as  she  ate  her  own  solitary  meal.  Her 
father  had  been  called  in  consultation  to  a 
neighboring  town  and  would  not  return  until 
the  following  day. 

After  supper  Amy  curled  herself  up  in  an 
easy-chair  under  the  drop-light,  and  opened 
a  new  novel  which  she  had  been  longing  to 
read,  ever  since  Stephen  Burns's  arrival.  She 
thought  with  strong  disapproval  of  the  man 
ner  in  which  he  had  been  taking  possession  of 
her  time  for  two  weeks  past.  She  looked  at 
the  clock  ;  it  was  half-past-eight. 

"  Well  !  that  's  over  with  !  "  she  thought, 
with  a  half  guilty  pang  of  conviction. 

Somehow  the  novel  was  not  as  absorbing  as 
she  had  anticipated.  She  let  it  drop  on  her 
lap,  and  sat  for  awhile  listening  to  the  storm 
outside,  as  she  reviewed  this  strange,  unnatural 
episode  of  half-betrothal  which  had  turned  out 
so  queerly. 

A  sharp  ring  at  the  telephone  in  the  adjoin 
ing  room  broke  in  upon  her  re  very.  She 
hastened  to  answer  it.  It  was  an  inquiry  from 
the  livery-stable  for  Mr.  Stephen  Burns.  He 
had  not  brought  the  horse  back,  nor  had  he 
returned  to  his  hotel.  Did  Miss  I^ovejoy  per- 


flMcnic  357 


haps  know  of  his  whereabouts  ?  Did  she  think 
they  had  better  send  out  a  search-party  ? 

Miss  Lovejoy  knew  nothing  of  his  where 
abouts,  and  she  was  strongly  of  the  opinion 
that  he  had  better  be  looked  up.  As  she  still 
stood  listening  at  the  telephone,  her  heart 
knocking  her  ribs  in  a  fierce  fright,  she  heard 
a  voice  in  a  distant  stable,  not  intended  for  her 
ears,  say  :  ' '  Not  much  use  to  search  !  If  he 
ain't  under  cover  he  ain't  alive."  Upon  which 
the  heart  ceased,  for  several  seconds,  its  knock 
ing  at  the  ribs,  and  Amy  I^ovejoy  knew  how 
novel-heroines  feel,  when  they  are  described  as 
growing  gray  about  the  lips. 

She  could  not  seem  to  make  the  telephone 
tube  fit  in  its  ring,  and  after  trying  to  do  so 
once  or  twice,  she  left  it  hanging  by  the  cord, 
and  went  and  opened  the  front  door  and  stood 
on  the  veranda.  It  did  not  seem  to  her  espe 
cially  cold,  but  over  there,  in  the  light  that 
streamed  from  the  parlor  window,  the  snow 
lay  drifted  into  a  singular  shape,  that  looked 
as  if  it  might  cover  a  human  form.  She  shud 
dered  sharply  and  went  into  the  house  again. 
From  time  to  time  she  telephoned  to  the  stable. 
They  had  sent  a  close  carriage  out  with  a  doc 
tor  and  two  other  passengers,  and  Elliot  Chit- 
tenden  had  gone  in  an  open  buckboard  with 


358  fteafc  anfc  prairie 

a  driver.  By  and  by  the  buckboard  had 
come  back  and  another  party  had  gone  out  in 
it.  Then  the  carriage  had  returned  and  gone 
forth  again  with  fresh  horses  and  a  fresh  driver. 

She  played  a  good  deal  with  the  riding-crop 
during  the  evening,  and  now  and  then  she  went 
outside  the  door  and  took  a  look  at  the  weird, 
shroud-like  shape,  there  in  the  light  of  the 
window.  Once  she  stepped  up  to  it  and 
pushed  the  riding-crop  in,  to  its  full  length, 
just  to  make  sure  that  there  was  nothing  under 
the  snow.  After  that  she  took  the  riding-crop 
in  and  dried  it  carefully  on  a  towel. 

Before  she  knew  it  the  evening  was  far  gone, 
and  all  but  one  carriage  had  returned. 

"  Guess  Jim's  turned  in  at  some  ranch," 
came  the  word  from  the  livery-stable.  "  He '  11  be 
ready  to  start  out  again  as  soon  as  it 's  light." 

If  the  evening  had  not  seemed  so  miracul 
ously  short,  Amy  could  not  have  forgiven  her 
self  for  having  been  so  slow  in  arriving  at  her 
own  plan  of  action.  As  it  was,  the  clock  had 
struck  twelve,  before  she  found  herself  clothed 
in  two  or  three  knit  and  wadded  jackets  under 
a  loose  old  seal-skin  sack,  crossing  the  yard 
to  the  stable  door.  The  maids  had  long  since 
gone  to  bed,  and  Thomas  Jefferson  was  a  mile 
away,  under  his  own  modest  roof. 


Cbe  38lf33arD  picnic  359 


Presently,  with  a  clatter  of  hoofs,  Sunbeam 
came  forth  from  the  stable  door,  bearing  on  his 
back,  a  funny,  round,  dumpy  figure,  very  un 
like  in  its  outlines  to  the  slender  form  which 
usually  graced  that  seat.  The  gallant  steed 
was  still  further  encumbered  by  a  fur-lined 
great  coat  of  the  doctor's,  strapped  on  behind, 
its  pockets  well  stocked  with  brandy  flask  and 
biscuits. 

The  storm  had  much  abated,  and  there  was 
already  a  break  in  the  clouds  over  yonder. 
The  air  was  intensely  cold,  but  the  wind  had 
quite  died  down.  Sunbeam  took  the  road  at  a 
good  pace,  for  he  had  a  valiant  spirit  and  would 
have  scorned  to  remember  the  day's  fatigues. 
His  rider  sat,  a  funny  little  ball  of  fur,  looking 
neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left.  Stephen 
was  nowhere  on  the  open  road  ;  that  was  sure, 
for  he  was  far  too  good  a  horseman  to  come  to 
grief  out  there.  There  was  but  one  place  to 
look  for  him,  and  that  was  among  the  prairie- 
dog  holes.  She  had  told  him  of  the  danger 
there  was  among  them,  and  he  would  have 
hastened  there  the  moment  he  believed  that  she 
was  lost. 

Amy  did  not  do  very  much  thinking  as  she 
rode  along  ;  she  did  not  analyze  the  feeling 
that  drove  her  forth  to  the  rescue.  She  only 


360  peak  an£>  prairie 


knew  that  she  and  she  alone  was  responsible 
for  any  harm  that  might  have  come  to  one 
whose  only  fault  was  that  he  had  taken  her 
at  her  word  ;  and  that  she  would  cheerfully 
break  her  own  neck  and  Sunbeam's, — even 
Sunbeam's  !  for  the  sake  of  rescuing  him. 

The  storm  had  ceased  entirely  now,  and  just 
as  she  reached  the  ranch  gate,  which  had  swung 
half  to  on  its  hinges  and  was  stuck  there  in 
the  snow,  the  moon  came  out  and  revealed 
the  wide  white  expanse,  unbroken  by  any  sign 
of  the  road.  She  felt  sure  that  the  search- 
parties  would  have  followed  the  road  as  closely 
as  possible  and  that  they  would  have  tried  not 
to  stray  off  into  the  field.  But  that  was  just 
where  Stephen  Burns,  mindful  of  the  perils  she 
had  described  to  him,  would  naturally  have 
turned.  She  blew  the  whistle  in  the  end  of  her 
riding-crop,  once,  twice,  three  times.  The  sound 
died  away  in  the  wide  echoless  spaces.  Then 
cautiously,  slowly,  she  made  Sunbeam  feel  his 
way  across  the  snow.  The  moon  was  still  riding 
among  heavy  clouds,  but  now  and  then  it  shone 
forth  and  flooded  with  light  the  broad  white 
field,  casting  a  sharp-cut,  distorted  shadow  of 
horse  and  rider  upon  the  snow. 

Once  or  twice  she  stopped,  and  blew  the 
whistle  and  hallooed,  and  each  time  the  weird 


Gbe  ;fiSlf33arfc  picnic  361 


silence  closed  in  again  like  an  impenetrable 
veil.  Sometimes  she  became  impatient  of  her 
slow  progress,  but  she  knew  too  well  the  dan 
gers  of  a  misstep  to  risk  the  chance  of  success 
by  any  lack  of  caution.  Even  in  her  anxiety 
and  distress  of  mind,  she  marked  the  intel 
ligence  with  which  Sunbeam  picked  his  way, 
testing  the  firmness  of  each  spot  on  which  he 
trod,  as  if  he  had  known  the  danger. 

Presently  they  began  the  ascent  of  a  long 
narrow  ridge  beyond  which  she  knew  there 
were  no  holes.  As  they  paused  for  a  moment 
on  the  crest,  looking  down  into  the  moonlit 
hollow,  she  raised  the  riding-crop  to  her  lips, 
and  blew  a  long,  shrill  whistle  ;  and  promptly 
as  an  echo  a  voice  returned  the  signal.  Fol 
lowing  the  direction  of  the  sound,  her  eyes 
discerned  a  dark  shadow  in  the  hollow  forty 
rods  away.  She  put  Sunbeam  into  a  canter, 
and  as  she  approached  the  shadow,  the  outline 
defined  itself,  and  she  saw  that  it  was  a  ruinous 
shed  or  hut. 

"  Hulloo  !  "  came  the  voice  again,  and  this 
time  it  was  unmistakeably  Stephen's. 

A  hundred  yards  from  the  shed,  Sunbeam 
shied  violently.  Looking  to  one  side,  she 
beheld  in  the  shadow  of  a  mass  of  scrub-oaks 
the  body  of  a  horse  lying  stark  and  still.  Close 


362  fteafc  anfc  iprafrie 


beside  the  head  was  a  dark  spot  in  the 
snow. 

A  moment  later  she  had  dismounted  and 
was  standing  within  the  rickety  hut,  looking 
down  upon  another  shadowy  form  that  moved 
and  spoke. 

' '  Are  you  hurt  ?  ' '  she  asked. 

11  Not  much.  I  believe  I  have  sprained  my 
ankle.  But  the  poor  nag  is  done  for,"  he 
added  sorrowfully. 

"  Which  foot  have  you  hurt  ?  " 

"  The  right  one." 

''That's  good.  Then  you  can  ride  side 
saddle.  Are  you  sure  that  is  all  ?  " 

He  was  already  consuming  brandy  and  bis 
cuit  at  a  rate  to  dissipate  all  immediate  anxiety. 

"  Yes  ;  and  I  declare  it 's  worth  it !  "  he  cried 
with  enthusiasm  ;  a  statement  which,  if  slightly 
ambiguous,  conveyed  a  cheerful  impression. 

"  Did  the  fall  kill  the  horse?"  Amy  asked, 
with  a  little  quiver  in  her  voice,  of  pity  for  the 
poor  beast. 

"  No  ;  I  thought  it  best  to  cut  an  artery  for 
him.  Poor  boy  !  He  floundered  terribly  be 
fore  he  went  down." 

"What  threw  him?" 

' '  Something  in  the  way  of  a  branch  or  a 
piece  of  timber.  Lucky  it  happened  where  it 


Cbe  $U33ar£>  picnic  363 

did,"  he  added.     "I  couldn't  have  gone  far 
looking  for  shelter." 

"Poor  old  nag!"  said  Amy.  Then,  per 
ceiving  that  she  had  not  been  altogether  polite  : 
"  Are  n't  you  nearly  frozen  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  it  's  very  snug  in  here.  Some  other 
tramp  must  have  been  here  before  me,  and  got 
these  leaves  together.  There  's  lots  of  warmth 
in  them." 

By  this  time  Stephen  had  crawled  out  from 
among  the  oak-leaves  and,  having  got  himself 
into  the  doctor's  fur-lined  coat,  stood  on  one 
foot,  leaning  heavily  against  the  door-frame. 

"  A  splendid  night,  isn't  it?"  he  remarked 
in  a  conversational  tone. 

Amy,  who  was  just  leading  Sunbeam  up  to 
the  doorway,  glanced  at  the  young  man,  stand 
ing  therein  the  bright  moonlight,— at  his  sensi 
tive,  intelligent  face,  his  finely-modelled  head 
and  brow, — and  somehow  she  felt  reinstated 
with  herself.  She  had  been  fatally  wrong  in 
making  choice  so  lightly,  but  at  least  the  choice 
was,  in  itself,  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of !  As 
she  helped  Stephen  in  his  painful  transit  to 
the  saddle,  she  wondered  if  she  were  really  a 
heartless  person  to  take  comfort  in  such  a 
thought.  But,  in  truth,  since  she  had  come  to 
question  the  genuineness  of  her  own  part  in 


364  peak  anD  prairie 

their  relation,  she  had  lost  faith  in  his  share  as 
well.  There  must  have  been  something  wrong 
about  it  from  the  beginning,  and  certainly,  she 
reasoned,  if  she  had  lost  interest  in  so  admira 
ble  a  being  as  he,  it  was  not  to  be  expected 
that  he  would  be  more  constant  to  a  trifling 
sort  of  person  like  herself.  There  was  only  a 
little  awkwardness  to  be  got  over  at  first,  but 
sooner  or  later  he  would  bless  her  for  his 
escape. 

Stephen,  meanwhile,  was  submitting  to  all 
her  arrangements  with  neither  protest  nor 
suggestion.  She  had  undertaken  to  rescue 
him,  and  she  must  do  it  in  her  own  way.  If  he 
hated  to  see  her  ploughing  through  the  snow 
by  the  side  of  the  horse,  he  made  no  sign.  If 
he  would  rather  have  been  left  to  his  fate  than 
to  have  subjected  her  to  exposure  and  fatigue, 
he  was  too  wise  to  say  so.  Her  wilfulness  had 
been  so  thoroughly  demonstrated  in  the  course 
of  that  day  that  he  merely  observed  her  with 
an  appreciation  half  amused,  half  admiring. 

'  There  is  a  house  just  beyond  the  gate 
where  we  can  go,"  she  said  ;  and  then  she  did 
not  speak  again  for  many  minutes. 

As  for  her  companion,  he  seemed  inclined  at 
first  to  be  as  taciturn  as  she.  Whether  or  not 
he  was  suffering  agony  from  his  foot,  she  had 


Cbe  JBli33ar&  picnic  365 

no  means  of  knowing,  nor  could  she  guess  how 
he  interpreted  her  own  action.  At  last  he 
broke  the  silence. 

"  Of  course  you  meant  to  give  me  the  slip," 
he  said.  ' '  I  half  knew  it  all  the  time.  I  sup 
pose  that  was  the  very  reason  why  I  persisted 
in  acting  as  if  I  thought  you  had  ridden  back 
for  me.  One  clings  all  the  harder  to  one's 
illusions  when,— well,  when  it  's  all  up  with 
them." 

Amy  could  not  seem  to  think  of  any  suitable 
remark  to  make  in  reply. 

They  had  reached  the  ranch  road  now.  She 
knew  the  general  lay  of  the  land  well  enough 
to  recognize  it,  and  she  could  trust  Sunbeam 
to  keep  it.  A  dense  black  cloud,  the  rear 
guard  of  the  storm,  had  covered  the  moon,  but 
there  were  stars  enough  to  light  the  way  some 
what. 

' '  Would  you  mind  telling  me  why  you  risked 
your  life  for  me  ?  "  Stephen  asked  abruptly. 

Some  seconds  went  by  before  she  answered. 
Then  :  "  I  think  there  was  reason  enough  in 
my  being  to  blame  for  it  all,"  she  said;  "I 
behaved  outrageously." 

' '  And  the  other  reason  ?  There  was  another 
reason,  I  take  it." 

His  voice  was  not  eager,  not  lover-like  ;  there 


366  peak  anfc  prairie 

was  more  curiosity  than  anything  else  in  the 
tone.  Again  the  moon  shone  out,  and  lighted 
up  her  face  distinctly,  as  she  answered  him, 
looking  straight  before  her  along  the  snowy 
road. 

"I  think,"  she  said,  speaking  with  a  slow 
consideration  of  her  words  ;  "I  think  it  was 
because  I  could  not  bear  to  have  you — go  out 
of  the  world,  believing — what  was  not  true  ! 
It  seemed  like  a  deceit  going  over  into  eter 
nity  !  " 

Would  he  say  something  very  dreadful  in 
reply,  she  wondered  ;  something  that  would 
haunt  her  for  the  rest  of  her  days  ? 

She  was  still  bracing  herself  for  the  worst, — 
for  he  had  not  yet  broken  the  silence, — when 
they  came  to  the  gate,  fixed  there,  half  closed. 
There  was  just  room  for  Sunbeam  to  pass  out, 
and  Amy  fell  behind  for  a  moment.  Stephen 
drew  rein  and  waited  for  her,  while  she  vainly 
tried  to  close  the  gate. 

"Don't  mind  that?"  he  said.  "It  will 
close  of  itself  when  the  snow  melts." 

She  came  obediently  and  walked  beside  him. 
They  had  turned  aside  from  the  direction  of 
Springtown,  toward  a  little  house  a  few  rods 
away.  They  were  almost  there  when  Stephen 
spoke  again, 


Cbe  $lt33arD  flMcntc  367 

"  You  must  be  sorry  about  it  all,"  he  said, 
"  though  you  very  wisely  leave  that  to  be  un 
derstood.  You  have  made  a  mistake  and  you 
think  you  have  caused  another  person  great 
and  lasting  unhappiness.  I  can't  tell  to-night 
whether  that  is  so  or  not,  but  there  is  one  thing 
that  I  think  you  have  a  right  to  know." 

•  "  And  that  is  ?  "  She  felt  that  she  must  fill 
in  the  pause,  for  he  evidently  found  it  difficult 
to  go  on. 

"  I  think  I  know  you  well  enough,"  he 
said ;  "to  be  sure  of  your  feeling  about  it, 
though  it  is  different  from  what  some  people 
would  have  under  the  circumstances.  But 
somehow  I  am  sure  that  you  will  be  glad  to 
know,  that  when  I  thought  I  was  going  to 
perish  in  the  storm,  —after  I  was  thrown,  and 
before  I  had  seen  that  there  was  shelter  near 
by, — it  was  not  you  my  thoughts  were  running 
on." 

Again  he  paused  while  she  lifted  the  latch 
of  the  little  gate.  Then,  as  Sunbeam  passed 
through,  and  Amy  walked  by  his  side  up  the 
snowy  path,  Stephen  said  : 

"  I  think  it  must  have  been  a  good  many 
minutes  that  I  lay  there,  thinking  that  the  end 
was  coming,  and  the  only  person  in  the  world 
that  I  seemed  to  care  about  was— my  mother  !  " 


368 


Ipeafc  an£>  jpralrie 


At  the  word,  the  bond  that  had  irked  her 
was  gently  loosed,  and  he,  for  his  part,  could 
only  wonder  that  he  felt  no  pain.  The  great 
cold  moon -lit  calm  of  the  night  seemed  to  enter 
into  their  hearts,  swept  clean  by  the  storm. 
They  looked  into  one  another's  faces  in  the 
solemn  white  light,  with  a  fine  new  unconcern. 
Where  were  all  their  perplexities  ?  What  had 
it  all  been  about  ? 

It  was  as  if  the  snow  had  melted,  and  the 
great  gate  had  closed  itself.  Was  it  Paradise 
or  Purgatory  they  had  shut  themselves  out 
from? 


XIII. 

A   GOLDEN  VISTA. 

HTRAMP,  tramp,  tramp, — the  heavy  boots 
*  had  sounded  on  the  road, — tramp,  tramp, 
tramp  !  since  Sunday  morning,  and  now  it  was 
Tuesday  noon.  Often  for  hours  together  there 
had  been  no  witness  to  the  steady  march,  save 
the  lordly  pine-trees,  standing  straight  and 
grand  in  the  mountain  "parks,"  or  scaling 
boldly  the  precipitate  sides  of  the  encroaching 
cliffs ;  the  cliffs  themselves,  frowning  sternly 
above  the  path  ;  and  always  somewhere  on  the 
horizon,  towering  above  the  nearer  hills  or 
closing  in  the  end  of  the  valley,  a  snowy  peak 
gleaming  like  a  transcendent  promise  against 
the  sky.  Waldo  Kean,  as  he  strode  steadily 
down  from  his  father's  mountain  ranch  toward 
a  wonderful  new  future  whose  door  was  about 
to  be  flung  wide  to  him,  felt  the  inspiration  of 
those  rugged  mountain  influences,  the  like  of 
which  had  been  his  familiars  all  the  seventeen 
369 


370  peak  an£>  jprafrle 

years  of  his  life.  The  chattering  brooks  had 
nothing  to  say  to  him  as  they  came  dashing 
down  from  the  hills  to  join  the  rollicking  stream 
whose  course  his  path  followed ;  the  sun 
flowers,  gilding  the  edge  of  the  road,  were  but 
frills  and  furbelows  to  his  thinking.  But  in 
the  pine-trees  there  was  a  perfectly  clear  signifi 
cance, — in  those  hardy  growths,  finding  a  foot 
hold  among  the  rocks,  drawing  sustenance 
from  Heaven  knew  where,  yet  ever  growing 
skyward,  straight  and  tall  and  strong.  As 
he  passed  among  them,  standing  at  gracious 
intervals  in  the  broad  ' '  parks, ' '  they  seemed 
to  flush  with  understanding  and  sympathy. 
His  way  led  from  north  to  south  and  as  often 
as  he  turned  and  looked  back  among  the  trees, 
the  stems  glowed  ruddily  and  his  heart  warmed 
to  them.  He  knew  that  it  was  merely  the 
southern  exposure  that  had  tinged  their  bark 
and  caused  that  friendly  glow,  but  he  liked  it 
all  the  same. 

Now  and  then  the  solitude  was  relieved  by 
the  appearance  of  a  horseman  riding  with 
flapping  arms  and  jingling  spurs  up  the  pass  ; 
or  again  the  silence  was  broken  by  the  incon 
sequent  bleating  of  a  flock  of  sheep  wandering 
in  search  of  their  scant  pasturage  or  huddling 
together,  an  agitated  mass  of  grimy  wool,  its 


<3olDen  Dista  371 


outskirts  painfully  exposed  to  the  sharp  but 
well-intentioned  admonitions  of  a  somewhat 
irascible  collie.  Neither  man  nor  beast  took 
special  note  of  the  overgrown  boy  striding  so 
confidently  on  his  way,  nor  was  one  observer 
more  likely  than  the  other  to  guess  what  in 
spiring  thoughts  were  animating  the  roughly 
clad,  uncouth  form.  The  boy's  clothes  were 
shabby  and  travel-stained,  and  over  his 
shoulders  was  slung  a  canvas  bag,  its  miscel 
laneous  contents  making  sharp,  angular  pro 
tuberances  on  its  surface.  He  had  left  the 
ranch  with  clothes  and  books  enough  to  give 
the  bag  a  pretty  weight,  and  this  he  had  uncon 
cernedly  increased  by  the  insertion  into  the 
straining  receptacle  of  many  a  "specimen" 
picked  up  by  the  way.  For  the  eyes  were  keen 
and  observant  that  looked  out  from  under  the 
strongly  marked  brows,  and  bits  of  fluorite  and 
"  fool's  gold,"  and  of  rarer  minerals  as  well, 
which  had  lain  for  years  beside  the  road,  noted 
as  little  by  cowboy  and  ranchman  and  moun 
tain  tourist  as  by  the  redman  whose  feet  first 
trod  the  pass,  were  destined  to-day  to  start  on 
their  travels,  enlisted  in  the  service  of  Science. 
It  must  have  been  a  daring  specimen  indeed 
that  should  have  thought  of  resisting  its  fate 
when  it  came  at  the  hands  of  Waldo  Kean. 


372  peak  ant>  iprairie 


There  was  a  certain  rough  strength  not  only  in 
the  muscular  frame,  but  in  the  face  itself,  with 
its  rude  features,  its  determined  outlines,  its 
heavy  under-lip  ;  and  in  the  stiff  black  hair 
roughly  clipped  on  the  ample  skull,  growing 
in  a  bushy  thatch  above  the  keen  dark  eyes. 
It  seemed  but  natural  that  j  ust  that  type  of 
boy  should  feel  himself  drawn  to  the  study  of 
the  rocky  foundation  of  things. 

Four  years  ago  Waldo  Kean  had  found  out 
that  he  wanted  to  be  a  geologist,  and  that  to 
this  end  he  must  go  to  college.  Yet  though 
the  college  was  in  Springtown,  and  though 
Springtown  lies  close  to  the  foot  of  the  ' '  range, ' ' 
it  had  taken  him  four  years  to  get.  there.  Dur 
ing  that  enforced  interval  he  had  done  his  full 
share  of  the  heavy  ranch  work,  he  had  found 
one  and  another  means  of  accumulating  a  little 
capital  of  his  own  ;  at  off  hours  and  off  seasons 
he  had  cudgelled  his  brain  over  books  with  ugly 
difficult  titles  and  anything  but  tractable  con 
tents.  In  short  he  had  fairly  earned  his  pass 
port,  and  now,  at  last,  on  this  radiant  October 
morning,  he  was  striding  over  the  few  interven 
ing  miles  that  separated  him  from  that  wonder 
ful  Land  of  Promise,  where  Latin  and  Greek 
grew  on  every  tree,  and  the  air  was  electric 
with  the  secrets  of  Science  itself.  What  won- 


(Bolfcen  \Msta  373 


der  that  he  was  unconscious  of  hardship  and 
fatigue,  that  he  counted  as  nothing  the  three 
days'  tramp  ;  the  icy  nights  spent  out  under 
the  chill  stars  ;  the  only  half-satisfied  hunger 
of  a  healthy  boy,  living  on  food  which  the  dry 
mountain  air  was  rapidly  reducing  to  a  powdery 
consistency  !  He  was  going  to  College  ;  he  was 
going  to  be  a  Geologist.  What  did  he  care  for 
any  paltry  details  by  the  way  ? 

He  seated  himself  for  his  noon  meal,  the  last 
crumbling  sandwich  of  his  store,  at  the  foot 
of  a  big  pine-tree,  just  where  the  pass  narrows 
to  a  wide  ravine.  As  he  took  out  the  slice 
of  bread  and  meat  neatly  wrapped  about  with 
brown  paper,  his  thoughts  reverted  with  a 
certain  sore  compunction  to  the  hand  that  had 
prepared  it  for  him.  It  had  been  his  mother's 
farewell  service,  and  he  somehow  realized  now 
as  he  had  not  realized  at  the  time,  how  much 
all  those  careful  preparations  meant,  to  her  and 
to  himself.  He  remembered  how,  late  Satur 
day  night,  she  had  sat  mending  a  new  rip  in 
his  best  coat,  and  that  when  she  pricked  her 
finger,  and  a  little  bead  of  red  blood  had  to  be 
disposed  of  before  she  could  go  on  with  the 
work,  he  had  wondered  why  women  were 
always  pricking  their  fingers  when  there  was 
no  need.  It  was  not  until  the  very  moment  of 


374  f>eafc  anfc  prairie 


departure  that  the  pain  of  it  seized  him.  His 
mother  was  a  quiet,  undemonstrative  woman 
of  the  New  England  race,  and  if  mother  and 
son  loved  each  other, — as  it  now  transpired 
that  they  did, — no  mention  had  ever  been  made 
of  the  fact  on  either  side.  The  consequence 
was,  that  when,  at  parting,  an  iron  hand 
seemed  to  be  gripping  the  boy's  throat,  he  had 
been  so  taken  at  unawares,  that  he  had  found 
it  impossible  to  articulate  a  single  word.  On 
the  mother's  part  there  had  been  one  little, 
half-suppressed  sob  that  sounded  in  his  ears 
yet.  It  left  an  ache  in  him  that  he  did  not  at 
first  know  what  to  do  with,  but  which  clearly 
called  for  heroic  treatment.  Accordingly,  after 
much  pondering  the  situation,  he  had  adopted 
a  great  resolution, — a  resolution  which  in 
volved  no  less  arduous  a  task  than  that  of 
writing  a  letter  to  his  mother  and  telling  her 
that  he  loved  her.  He  thought  it  possible  that 
the  confession  might  give  her  pleasure,  coming 
from  a  safe  distance  and  involving  no  immedi 
ate  consequences,  and  in  any  case  he  did  not 
feel  j  ustified  in  keeping  to  himself  a  discovery 
which  so  nearly  concerned  another  person. 
He  had  thought  a  good  deal  about  the  letter 
and  of  how  he  should  approach  the  subject, 
and  he  had  about  decided  to  make  the  mo- 


B  (Bol&en  IDfsta  375 


mentous  statement  in  a  postscript  down  in  one 
corner  and  to  sign  it  ' '  Waldy. ' ' 

He  was  so  near  his  journey's  end  that  he 
allowed  himself  rather  a  longer  nooning  than 
usual.  He  stretched  himself  on  his  back  on 
the  pine  needles,  and  with  his  hands  clasped 
behind  his  head,  he  gazed  up  through  the 
spreading  branches  to  the  marvellous  blue  of 
the  sky.  When  he  should  be  a  scientific  man 
and  know  all  sorts  of  things  besides  geology,— 
meteorology  and  chemistry  and  the  like, — per 
haps  he  should  find  out  why  the  sky  looked  so 
particularly  deep  and  palpitating  when  you 
were  lying  flat  on  your  back  and  there  were 
some  pine  branches  in  between.  He  meant, 
one  of  these  days,  to  know  everything  there 
was  to  be  known,  and  to  discover  a  little  some 
thing  new  besides. 

A  train  of  cars  thundered  by  on  the  other 
side  of  the  brook  not  thirty  yards  from  his 
feet.  He  did  not  change  his  position,  but 
looking  down  the  long  length  of  his  legs,  he 
saw  the  roaring,  snorting  beast  of  an  engine 
rush  by,  trailing  its  tail  of  cars  behind  it. 

"  And  yet  the  power  is  n't  in  the  steam,"  he 
thought  to  himself,  ' '  but  in  the  brain  that 
controls  it.  Just  the  brain.  That's  all." 
At  the  thought  a  sudden  impatience  seized 


376  jpeafc  anfc 


him  to  arrive  at  that  goal  where  the  brain 
takes  command,  and  he  sprang  to  his  feet,  and 
shouldering  his  pack,  strode  on  down  the  pass. 
Tramp,  tramp,  tramp  !  went  the  heavy  boots  ; 
the  great  bag  weighed  like  lead  across  his 
shoulders  ;  a  gnawing  hunger  had  somehow 
got  into  him  since  he  swallowed  the  crumbling 
bread  and  meat. 

"  The  water  was  good,  at  any  rate,"  he  said 
to  himself,  glancing  more  appreciatively  than 
before  at  the  crystal  stream  that  still  raced  on 
a  level  with  the  road.  The  way  led  across 
both  brook  and  railroad  just  there,  and  there 
was  a  sharp  turn  in  the  walls  of  the  canon. 
He  looked  back  and  saw  a  train  rushing  down 
the  pass,  swiftly, — surreptitiously,  it  seemed, 
so  curiously  little  noise  did  it  make  on  the 
down-grade.  An  instant  later  he  had  turned 
the  corner,  and  found  himself  face  to  face  with 
a  pair  of  horses  harnessed  to  a  buggy,  trotting 
rapidly  up  the  pass,  straight  toward  that  rail 
road  crossing.  They  were  already  close  upon 
him  and  he  could  see  a  man  and  woman  seated 
in  the  buggy.  He  had  only  time  to  fling  his 
pack  to  one  side  and  wave  his  arms  in  warn 
ing,  and  then,  his  warning  being  unheeded,  he 
sprang  at  the  horses'  heads  and  seized  the 
bridles.  The  horses  reared  and  plunged,  there 


Oolfcen  IDista  377 


was  the  sharp  whistle  of  a  whiplash,  a  sting 
ing  blow  cut  him  across  the  face.  The  blood 
rushed  to  his  head  in  a  sudden  fury,  but  instinc 
tively  he  kept  his  hold  upon  the  plunging 
horses.  They  had  all  but  dragged  him  to  the 
track  when  the  train  rushed  by.  The  whole 
thing  had  happened  in  twenty  seconds  of  time. 

He  dropped  his  hold  and  sprang  to  one  side 
while  the  horses  dashed  on  and  tore  round  the 
projecting  corner  of  rock,  the  buggy  slewing 
wildly  after  them. 

Waldo  Kean  stood  an  instant  with  clenched 
hands  and  crimson  face,  a  straight  welt  stand 
ing  out  white  and  angry  across  his  cheek. 
Then, — "  Pooh  !  he  muttered,  "I'm  going  to 
college  all  the  same  !  " — and  he  picked  up  his 
hat  which  the  horses  had  trampled  out  of 
shape,  shouldered  his  pack  and  strode  on  down 
the  pass.  His  cheek  was  smarting  with  pain, 
but  he  was  hardly  aware  of  that ;  there  was  a 
yawning  rip  in  the  arm-hole  of  his  coat,  but 
that  was  of  still  less  consequence.  He  had  all 
he  could  do  to  attend  to  the  conflicting  emo 
tions  of  the  moment  ;  the  sense  of  outraged 
dignity  contending,  not  very  successfully,  with 
a  lively  concern  for  the  fate  of  those  people  he 
had  tried  to  rescue.  He  thought  it  more  than 
likely  that  they  would  both  get  killed,  for  the 


ipeafc  ant)  prairie 


horses  were  quite  unmanageable  when  they 
disappeared  around  the  corner,  and  he  remem 
bered  an  ugly  bit  of  road  just  above  that  point. 
He  was  not  a  little  disgusted  with  himself 
when  he  caught  himself  hoping  that  they 
might  get  out  of  the  scrape  alive.  Well,  if  he 
could  not  "stay  mad"  longer  than  that,  he 
told  himself,  he  might  as  well  forget  the 
whole  business  and  be  on  the  look-out  for 
specimens. 

Meanwhile  the  pass  was  getting  grander 
every  moment  ;  the  brook  was  working  its 
way  deeper  below  the  level  of  the  road,  while 
here  and  there  in  this  sombre  defile  a  splash 
of  yellow  aspen  gleamed  like  living  gold  on 
the  face  of  the  precipice.  The  wild  and  beau 
tiful  gorge  interested  him  in  spite  of  himself; 
it  disengaged  his  thoughts  alike  from  his 
personal  grievance,  and  from  his  dissatisfied 
contemplation  of  his  own  lack  of  proper  vin- 
dictiveness.  There  was  nothing  grand  like 
this  in  the  neighborhood  of  the  ranch.  It 
was  more  like  his  father's  description  of  the 
"Flume"  and  the  ''Notch,"  those  natural 
wonders  of  the  White  Hills  which  Waldo  Kean 
the  elder  liked  to  talk  about.  ' '  When  I  was 
a  boy  over  in  New  Hampshire,"  he  used  to 
say  ;  and  to  the  children  it  seemed  as  if  ' '  over 


<3olDen  Wista  379 


in  New  Hampshire  ' '  could  not  be  more  than 
a  day's  journey  from  the  ranch. 

' '  When  I  was  a  boy  over  in  New  Hamp 
shire,"  he  would  say,  "  I  got  it  into  my  head 
that  if  I  could  only  get  away  to  a  new  place  I 
sh'd  get  to  be  something  big  ;  and  the  farther 
away  I  got,  the  bigger  I  expected  to  be. 
Colorado  was  a  territory  then,  'n  I  thought, 
'  f  I  could  only  get  out  here  they  '  d  make  me 
gov'nor  's  like  's  not.  'N  I  do'  know  but  what 
I  'd  have  looked  to  be  made  President  of  the 
United  States  'f  I  'd  sighted  the  Pacific  Ocean!" 

Then  the  .shaggy,  keen-eyed  mountaineer 
who  made  so  light  of  boyish  expectations 
would  knock  the  logs  together  and  take  a  puff 
or  two  at  his  pipe  before  coming  to  the  climax 
of  his  remarks,  which  varied  according  to  the 
lesson  he  wished  to  inculcate. 

' '  It  took  me  several  years  of  wrastling  with 
life,"  he  was  fond  of  saying,  "  to  find  out  that 
it  ain't  so  much  matter  whar  you  be,  as  what 
you  be.  'N  if  I  was  you,  Waldy," — here  was 
the  application, — "  I  'd  contrive  to  learn  a  little 
something  on  my  own  hook,  before  I  aspired 
to  go  consorting  with  them  as  knows  it  all  !  " 

When,  however,  the  time  was  ripe,  and 
"Waldy,"  having  fulfilled  these  conditions, 
was  fairly  off  for  college,  the  ranchman  had 


380  fteafc  ant>  ipraide 


signified  his  approval  of  his  son's  course  by 
escorting  him  a  few  miles  on  his  way.  The 
boy  had  felt  himself  highly  honored  by  the  at 
tention,  yet  when  the  time  of  parting  came,  it 
was  with  no  such  stricture  about  his  throat  as 
had  taken  him  at  unawares  in  the  early  morn 
ing,  that  he  watched  the  tall  form  disappearing 
among  the  pine-trees.  There  was  a  certain 
self-sufficiency  about  the  "old  man," — aged 
forty-five, — that  precluded  any  embarrassing 
tenderness  in  one's  relations  with  him. 

Waldo  was  thinking  of  his  father  as  he  strode 
down  the  pass  with  that  welt  on  his  cheek. 
He  had  an  idea  that  his  father  would  not  make 
so  much  of  the  affair  as  he  was  taking  himself 
to  task  for  not  doing.  And  up  to  this  time 
his  father  had  been  his  .standard.  He  not  only 
had  a  very  high  opinion  of  him  as  he  was,  but 
he  had  a  boyish  faith  in  what  he  might  have 
been,  a  belief  that  if  he  had  had  half  a  chance 
he  would  have  made  his  mark  in  the  world.  He 
was  glad  that  he  bore  his  father's  name,  and 
he  was  quite  determined  to  make  it  stand  for 
something  in  the  minds  of  men  before  he  got 
through  with  it.  It  sounded  like  a  name  that 
was  to  be  made  to  mean  something. 

Suddenly  the  sound  of  wheels  coming 
down  the  pass  struck  his  ear.  They  were  the 


B  (Solfcen  Dista  381 


wheels  of  a  buggy,  he  thought,  and  of  a  buggy 
drawn  by  a  pair  of  horses.  The  suggestion 
was  distasteful  to  Waldo  Kean  just  at  that 
moment,  and  he  quickened  his  pace  somewhat. 
Presently  the  wheels  stopped  close  behind  him, 
a  firm  step  sounded  on  the  road,  he  felt  a  heavy 
hand  on  his  shoulder.  He  looked  up,  and  his 
worst  forebodings  were  realized.  It  was  the 
face  he  had  caught  sight  of  in  that  particular 
buggy  which  he  did  not  like  to  think  about, 
and  the  hand  that  rested  on  his  shoulder  was 
the  one  which  had  swung  the  whip  to  such 
good  purpose. 

A  very  hearty  and  pleasant  voice  was  say 
ing  ;  "  Do  you  know,  I  never  did  anything  in 
all  my  life  I  was  so  sorry  for  !  ' '  but  the  boy 
strode  on  as  stolidly  as  if  he  had  been  stone- 
deaf. 

The  other,  though  a  man  of  heavy  build, 
kept  pace  with  him  easily. 

"You  see,"  he  remarked,  after  waiting  a 
reasonable  time  for  a  reply  ;  "I  never  knew 
what  it  was  to  owe  any  one  so  much  as  I  owe 
you  !  ' ' 

Not  being,  in  fact,  stone-deaf,  Waldo  found 
himself  obliged  to  make  some  response.  As 
much  from  embarrassment  as  from  anger,  he 
spoke  gruffly. 


382  peak  anD  jprairie 

"That's  nothing,"  he  said.  "I'd  have 
done  as  much  for  a  stray  dog, — and  like  as  not 
I '  d  have  got  bit  all  the  same  !  ' ' 

His  companion  was  making  a  study  of  him 
rather  than  of  his  words  ; — of  the  defiant  pose 
of  the  head  above  the  shabby,  uncouth  figure, 
— of  the  stormy  eyes  set  in  the  fiery  crimson 
of  the  face.  He  could  not  resent  the  rough 
words,  but  neither  could  he  help  being  amused 
at  the  tragic  exaggeration  of  the  figure. 

' '  Do  you  know,  you  do  look  like  a  brig 
and  !"  he  said,  in  an  easy  tone,  that  had  a 
curious  effect  upon  the  excited  boy.  "  I  don't 
so  much  wonder  that  I  took  you  for  a  foot 
pad  !  " 

No  one  but  Dick  Dayton, — for  it  was  the 
Springtown  ' '  Mascot ' '  himself  who  was  try 
ing  to  make  friends  with  the  ranch  boy, — could 
have  "hit  off"  the  situation  so  easily.  The 
"brigand's"  face  had  already  relaxed  some 
what,  though  his  tongue  was  not  to  be  so  lightly 
loosed. 

"The  fact  is,"  Dayton  went  on,  following 
up  his  advantage ;  ' '  The  fact  is,  there  was 
a  hold-up  here  in  the  pass  last  week,  and  my 
wife  and  I  were  just  saying  what  a  jolly  good 
place  it  was  for  that  kind  of  thing,  when  you 
flung  yourself  at  the  horses'  heads.  I  don't 


21  (BolDcn  Dieta  383 


know  what  you  would  have  done  under  the 
circumstances,  but  I  know  you  'd  have  been 
either  a  fool  or  a  prophet  if  you  had  n't  let  fly 
for  all  you  were  worth  !  ' ' 

The  boy  looked  up  at  the  friendly,  humor 
ous  face,  and  pleasant  relentings  stole  upon  him. 

"  Well,  then,"  he  said,  with  a  sudden,  flash 
ing  smile,  which  illuminated  his  harsh  counte 
nance,  very  much  as  the  gold  of  the  aspens  lit 
up  the  wall  of  frowning  rock  over  there. 
"That 's  all  right,  and  I  'm  glad  I  did  it." 

"  All  right  !  "  cried  Dayton,  with  a  sudden 
rising  emotion  in  his  voice, —  "  I  should  think 
it  was  all  right  !  It  is  n't  every  day  that  a  man 
and  his  wife  get  their  lives  saved  in  that  off 
hand  way  !  Why  !  I'm  all  balled  up  every 
time  I  think  of  it  !  " 

"Oh,  well;  I  don't  know!"  said  Waldo, 
relapsing  into  embarrassment  again  ;  "  I  guess 
it  was  the  horses  I  thought  of  as  much  as 
anything  !  ' ' 

Dayton  was  still  too  sincerely  moved  to  laugh 
outright  at  this  unexpected  turn,  as  he  would 
have  done  in  spite  of  himself  under  ordinary 
circumstances,  but  he  found  it  a  relief  to  slip 
back  into  his  tone  of  easy  banter. 

"  If  that 's  the  case,"  he  said  ;  "  would  you 
mind  coming  back  and  being  introduced  to  the 


384  peak  anD  ftrairie 


horses?  They  are  just  behind  us,  and  I  think 
they  ought  to  have  a  chance  to  make  their  ac 
knowledgments.  ' ' 

The  boy,  very  much  aware  that  he  had  said 
the  wrong  thing,  yet  attracted,  in  spite  of  him 
self  and  his  own  blunders,  to  the  good-natured 
giant,  yielded,  awkwardly  enough,  and  re 
traced  his  steps.  They  were  soon  face  to  face 
with  the  horses,  making  their  way  at  a  slow 
walk  down  the  road,  driven  by  the  woman 
whose  face  Waldo  had  had  a  confused  glimpse 
of  in  the  heat  of  that  fateful  encounter. 

"This  is  my  wife,  Mrs.  Dayton,"  said  the 
big  man  ;  ' '  and  you  are  ?  ' ' 

"Waldo  Kean." 

For  the  first  time  in  his  life  the  boy  had  taken 
his  hat  off  as  a  matter  of  ceremony.  He  had 
done  so  in  unconscious  imitation  of  Dayton, 
who  had  lifted  his  own  as  he  mentioned  his 
wife's  name.  Waldo  Kean  did  not  perhaps 
realize  that  the  ' '  education  ' '  he  was  so  ambi 
tious  of  achieving  was  begun  then  and  there. 

The  shapeless  old  hat  once  off,  he  did  not 
find  it  easy  to  put  it  on  again,  and,  as  Mrs. 
Dayton  leaned  forward  with  extended  hand,  he 
stopped  to  tuck  the  battered  bundle  of  felt  into 
his  pocket  before  clasping  the  bit  of  dainty  kid 
she  held  out  to  him, 


B  (Bol&en  Wteta  385 

She  was  already  speaking,  and,  strangely 
enough,  there  was  something  in  her  voice 
which  made  him  think  of  his  mother's  as  it 
had  sounded  just  before  it  broke  into  that 
pathetic  little  sob. 

'  There  is  so  little  good  in  talking  about 
what  a  person  feels,"  she  was  saying;  "that 
I  'm  not  going  to  try."  Yes,  the  little  break 
in  the  voice  was  something  he  had  heard  but 
once  in  his  life  before  ;  yet  nothing  could  have 
been  less  like  his  mother  than  the  expressive 
young  face  bending  toward  him. 

The  great  half-civilized  boy  took  one  look 
at  the  face,  and  all  his  self-consciousness  van 
ished. 

"  I  guess  anybody  'd  like  to  do  you  a  good 
turn!"  he  declared  boldly,  as  he  loosed  the 
small  gloved  hand  from  the  big  clutch  he  had 
given  it.  The  charming  face  flushed  as  warmly 
as  if  it  had  never  been  complimented  before. 

"Are  you  going  to  stay  in  Springtown  ?  " 
its  owner  asked. 

"I'm  going  to  the  college,"  the  young  ge 
ologist  answered  proudly. 

:'  Then  you  'd  better  let  us  have  your  pack," 
said  Dayton.  "  We  can  do  that  much  for  you  ! 
There's  lots  of  room  in  back  here." 

Waldo  hesitated  ;    he  was  used  to  carrying 


386  fteafc  anfc  prairie 


his  own  burdens.  But  Dayton  had  hold  of  the 
pack,  and  it  seemed  to  find  its  own  way  into 
the  buggy. 

"  There  !  That  will  ride  nicely,"  said  Day 
ton.  "  Now  I  suppose  we  may  call  ourselves 
quits  ? ' '  and  he  glanced  quizzically  at  the  boy 
who  had  clearly  missed  the  amiable  satire  of 
the  suggestion. 

The  two  walked  on  together  for  some  time, 
keeping  close  beside  the  buggy.  The  horses 
were  perfectly  docile  now  that  no  one  seemed 
disposed  to  fly  at  their  heads.  Waldo  began 
to  feel  that  he  had  really  been  needlessly  vio 
lent  with  them  in  that  first  encounter.  He 
pulled  out  his  hat  and  put  it  on  again. 

They  had  come  to  the  narrowest  and  most 
stupendous  part  of  the  pass,  and  Waldo,  now 
wonderfully  at  his  ease,  had  broached  the 
subject  of  the  Notch.  He  was  astonished  to 
find  how  conversible  these  new  acquaintances 
were.  They  proved  much  easier  to  talk  with 
than  his  ranch  neighbors  whom  he  had  known 
all  his  life.  And,  better  still,  they  knew  a 
surprising  lot  about  minerals  and  flowers  and 
things  of  that  sort,  that  were  but  sticks  and 
stones  to  his  small  world  at  home. 

When,  at  last,  these  very  remarkable  and 
well-informed  people  drove  away,  and  he 


a  <3olDen  Dista  387 

watched  their  buggy  disappearing  down  the 
pass,  he  found  himself  possessed  of  a  new  and 
inspiring  faith  in  the  approach ablen ess  of  the 
great  world  he  was  about  to  confront.  He 
had  rather  expected  to  deal  with  it  with  ham 
mer  and  pick, — to  wrest  the  gold  of  experience 
from  the  hardest  and  flintiest  bedrock;  and  all 
at  once  he  felt  as  if  he  had  struck  a  great 
' '  placer  ' '  with  nuggets  of  the  most  agreeable 
description  lying  about,  ready  to  his  hand  ! 

As  he  reflected  upon  these  things,  the  pass 
was  opening  out  into  a  curious,  cup-shaped 
valley ,  crowded  with  huge  hotels  and  diminutive 
cottages  of  more  or  less  fantastic  architecture, 
clustering  in  the  valley,  climbing  the  hills, 
perching  on  jutting  rocks  and  overhanging 
terraces.  Waldo  knew  the  secret  of  this  start 
ling  outcrop  of  human  enterprise.  He  knew7 
that  here,  in  this  populous  nook,  were  hidden 
springs  of  mineral  waters,  bubbling  and  spark 
ling  up  from  the  caverns  of  the  earth.  He 
found  his  way  to  one  of  the  springs,  where 
he  took  a  long,  deep  draught  of  the  tingling 
elixir,  speculating  the  while,  as  to  its  nature 
and  source.  Then  on  he  went,  refreshed  and 
exhilarated. 

A  few  miles  of  dusty  highway  brought  him 
at  last  within  the  borders  of  classic  Springtown, 


388  fteah  anfc  prairie 

classic  in  its  significance  to  him,  as  the 
elm-embowered  shades  of  Cambridge  or  New 
Haven  to  the  New  England  boy  at  home.  As 
he  entered  upon  the  broad  Western  Avenue, 
the  declining  sun  had  nearly  touched  the  great 
Peak,  its  long,  level  rays  striking  a  perfect 
glory  across  the  boughs  of  the  cottonwood 
trees  shining  in  the  height  of  their  yellow 
autumn  splendor.  They  arched  the  walk  he 
trod,  and  stretched  to  the  northward,  a  marvel 
lous  golden  vista,  as  brilliant  as  the  promise 
of  the  future  itself.  There  were  fine  residences 
on  either  side  of  the  avenue,  finer  than  any 
thing  the  ranch  boy  had  ever  dreamed  of, 
while  off  to  the  west  stretched  the  line  of 
mountains,  transfigured  in  the  warm  afternoon 
light.  But  all  the  boy  could  see  or  think  of 
was  that  golden  vista,  stretching  before  him 
to  the  very  portals  of  the  house  of  learning. 

And  presently,  along  this  glorified  path,  a 
man  approached,  and  as  the  two  came  face  to 
face,  he  stopped  before  the  boy  and  called  him 
by  name. 

The  whole  situation  was  so  wonderful, — so 
magical  it  seemed  to  Waldo  in  the  exaltation 
of  the  moment, — that  he  did  not  pause  to 
consider  how  his  name  should  be  known  to  a 
chance  passer-by  ;  and  when  the  stranger  went 


B  <3olDen  Wsta  389 


on  to  give  his  own  name,  and  it  was  the  name 
of  the  college  president,  the  boy  accepted  the 
fact  that  dreams  come  true,  and  only  held  his 
head  a  little  higher  and  trod  the  path  a  little 
more  firmly,  as  he  walked  beside  the  president 
under  the  yellow  cottonwoods. 

11 1  came  out  to  meet  you,"  the  president  was 
saying,  in  a  big,  friendly  voice.  ' '  I  heard  you 
were  coming,  and  I  thought  we  might  talk 
things  over  a  bit  on  the  way." 

They  chatted  a  little  of  the  boy's  plans  and 
resources,  of  the  classes  he  was  to  enter,  and 
of  what  he  might  accomplish  in  his  college 
course  ;  and  then  they  came  out  from  under 
the  trees,  and  found  themselves  upon  the  college 
campus.  A  game  of  football  was  going  on 
there,  the  figures  of  the  players  fairly  irradi 
ated  in  the  golden  light  which  fell  aslant  the 
great  open  space,  touching  the  scant  yellowish 
grass  into  a  play  of  shimmering  color.  They 
stood  a  moment,  while  the  president  pointed 
out  to  Waldo  the  different  college  buildings. 
Then  :— 

"  I  have  something  pleasant  to  tell  you,"  his 
companion  remarked,  with  a  glance  at  the 
strong  eager  face  of  the  boy.  "The  college 
has  just  had  the  gift  of  a  scholarship. ' ' 

"I'm  glad  of  that,"   said  Waldo,  heartily, 


jpeafc  ant)  prairie 


finding  a  cheerful  omen  in  the  fact  that  the  day 
was  an  auspicious  one  for  others  beside  himself. 

"The  gift  is  a  sort  of  thank-offering,"  he 
heard  his  new  friend  say ;  ' '  from  a  man  who 
fell  in  with  you — up  in  the  pass  this  after 
noon  !  " 

The  boy's  face  went  crimson  at  the  words, 
but  he  only  fixed  his  eyes  the  more  intently 
upon  the  football  players,  as  if  his  destiny  had 
depended  upon  the  outcome  of  the  game. 

"  The  scholarship  is  the  largest  we  have  ;  "- 
he  heard  the  words  distinctly,  but  they  struck 
him  as  coming  from  quite  a  long  distance.     ' '  It 
is  to  be  called — the  Waldo  Kean  Scholarship  !  ' ' 

The  Waldo  Kean  Scholarship  !  How  well 
that  sounded  !  What  a  good,  convincing  ring 
it  had,  as  if  it  had  been  intended  from  the  very 
beginning  of  things  ! 

He  stood  silent  a  moment,  pondering  it, 
while  the  president  waited  for  him  to  speak  ; 
and  as  he  watched  the  field  the  football  players 
seemed  to  mingle  and  vanish  from  sight  like 
shadows  in  a  dream,  while  in  their  place  a 
certain  tall  angular  form  stood  out,  loose- 
jointed,  somewhat  bent,  yet  full  of  character 
and  power.  All  the  splendor  of  the  setting 
sun  centred  upon  that  rugged  vision,  that  yet 
did  not  bate  one  jot  of  its  homely  reality. 


B  <3olDen  Dieta  391 


And  the  boy,  lifting  his  head  with  a  proud 
gesture,  and  with  a  straightening  of  the  whole 
figure,  looked  the  president  in  the  face  and 
said  :  "  That  is  my  father 's  name  !  " 

They  started  to  cross  the  campus,  where  the 
football  players  were  once  more  in  possession. 
The  sun  had  dropped  behind  the  Peak,  and  the 
glory  was  fading  from  the  face  of  the  earth  ; 
but  to  Waldo  Kean,  walking  side  by  side  with 
the  college  president,  the  world  was  alight  with 
the  rays  of  a  sun  whose  setting  was  yet  a  long 
way  off ;  and  the  golden  vista  he  beheld  before 
him  was  nothing  less  than  the  splendid  illimi 
table  future, — the  future  of  the  New  West, 
which  was  to  be  his  by  right  of  conquest  ! 

END. 


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UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


